


Tripes à la mode de Caen

by xisney



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-09-22
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:35:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 78,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xisney/pseuds/xisney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will tries to hunt down what may be the Chesapeake Ripper while also maintaining his grip on reality and his new relationship with Hannibal Lecter. Hannibal seems fairly insistent on trying to get Will to quit working for Jack Crawford, but he assures Will it is for the sake of his sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hot sweat cured down the back of his neck. Frozen breath curled out from his mouth. A notebook opened to a blank page sat between his fingers. His blue eyes scanned his surroundings, and he tried to ignore the quick, loud pounding in his ears. Streetlamps. Homes. Dull stars looming over him. He checked his watch.

His voice sounded hoarse against the calm night. “It’s 4:47am, or a very dark pm.” He looked around again, desperate to find anything recognizable. His head throbbed behind his eyes, clouding his vision, but there was a house he recognized. “I think – I think I’m in Baltimore, Maryland. My name is Will Graham.”

Will hesitated. He flipped through the notebook, but all the pages were blank. A cool wind brushed against his legs, and twigs snapped behind him. He turned around to the empty street behind him. A noise pressed against his ears – a crushing hum, not quite as sharp as a chainsaw but with the rumble of a machine. It was too loud to be real – it couldn’t be real.

The noise stopped to allow the sounds of twigs cracking to echo through the night. Will looked around, and something – some dark creature – moved in his peripheral vision. His feet moved before he realized it, pulling him towards the house. Dr. Lecter would help him piece together the lost time.

When he rang the doorbell, the noise returned and cold fingers drifted down his spine. When he turned around, he thought he saw the creature slide out of his peripheral vision again. He quickly pounded on Hannibal’s door, the noise overwhelming the sound of his own knocking.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter opened the door to a very sweaty Will Graham. His friend was clad in shoes without socks, delightfully small boxer shorts, a white t-shirt, and a green jacket. Just looking at Will sent a cold shiver through him.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Will said, rubbing his forehead.

Hannibal opened his door wider and motioned for Will to step in. Will complied, and Hannibal closed the door and smoothed out his hair before turning around. Will stared into the corner of the room absently, rubbing one of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“I lost time again,” Will said. “I remember laying down in bed and the next thing I knew I was standing outside of your house with a blank notebook in my hand.” He handed the notebook to Hannibal and said, “It is blank, right?”

Hannibal flipped through the pages, but saw nothing within the book. Some pieces of paper were left in the notebook’s coil, suggesting that Will had ripped a page out. Flipping back to the front page, Hannibal saw indentations on the first page, and he made a mental note to look into them later when Will was distracted.

He wondered what would happen if he said there was something in the book, but he couldn’t think of anything clever (he had just woken up, after all) and decided Will’s current behaviour was interesting enough on its own. He didn’t bring a serial killer to his door this time, but it was the middle of the night and by the way Will’s eyes moved, he heard or saw something that Hannibal didn’t.

“Yes,” Hannibal said. “It is blank.”

“You hesitated,” Will replied.

“I was checking all of the pages.”

“Are you playing music?”

“No. Are you hearing something, Will?”

The loud hum pressed against Will’s ears, almost drowning out Hannibal’s voice completely. It drilled into his temples, and he could still see the creature looming in the corner of his eyes. He recognized the creature now though. The antlers. Its feathered backside. He’d seen it before. It skulked down one of Hannibal’s hallways.

Warmth enveloped Will’s hands, and he looked down to see Hannibal’s hands on top of his own. A sudden silence hit him, and he watched the doctor’s serious face while Hannibal’s fingers manipulated his hands and investigated them.

“What are you doing?”

“I am confirming that there is no blood on your hands.”

Hannibal gave Will a smile, and Will pulled his hands away. The thought that he might have killed someone hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Your hands are covered in earth,” Hannibal said. “You must have been moving through the woods. There’s some on your knees and your face.”

At the mention of Will’s face, Hannibal wiped at a piece of dirt on his scruffy cheek. Will took a look at Hannibal, taking in his surroundings for the first time. Hannibal wore a red robe over a pair of navy blue, silk pyjamas. It was as if the doctor expected people to drop into his home in the middle of the night and dressed to impress.

Pain returned to Will’s head, and he rubbed his forehead and looked away. His torso and arms suddenly weighed down on him, and he wasn’t sure his legs could support the weight. He leaned against the wall, hugging himself with his free arm.

A new weight pressed against his forehead as Hannibal pressed his hand over it. Will relaxed as Hannibal’s arm coiled around his back, keeping him upright. “Your fever is back,” Hannibal said. “You shouldn’t have left the hospital.”

“I’m fine.”

“Do you know why you are here, Will?”

“I assume I was coming to see you,” he replied. Checking his pockets, Will pulled out his car keys and continued, “I must have run out of gas.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “I don’t even want to think of the possibility that I crashed my car somewhere.”

“Why would you be driving out to me?”

“I can’t remember,” Will said, rubbing his head again. “I didn’t try calling, did I?”

“Nothing woke me until you rang the bell.”

Will put his car keys back into his pocket, and his eyes glazed over as he looked down Hannibal’s hallway. Hannibal released Will and watched him stumble. When Will steadied himself with the wall again, Hannibal said, “Perhaps you were coming to me so I would take you back to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” Will said.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

Will glanced at Hannibal before returning his gaze back down the hallway. “I don’t remember sleeping.”

Something told Will he was forgetting something; maybe it was the beast, the noise or the lack of both of them. Did he think of something while he was lying in bed? Could it have been a solution to one of the cases? Could it have been something so horrifying that his mind refused to process and remember it?

But it was normal to land on Hannibal’s doorstep after an event like this.

The noise started up again, drilling into his temples and distorting his balance. He noticed Hannibal’s lips moving but he only heard the overwhelming hum. He watched the way Hannibal’s thin lips moved with every muted noise and thought of how perfect and subtle their movements were. After first seeing Hannibal eat, he recalled wondering if Hannibal practiced eating in front of the mirror until it looked perfect. Small bites that showed the absolute pleasure of every taste. The small smile in the corner of his lips. The perfect posture as his long fingers delicately navigated the fork for a second bite. It couldn’t be perfect from the start. He wrote it off as an effect of Hannibal’s pretentious side.

Why did he think of it now?

Hannibal gripped his arm firmly and his voice broke through the noise as he asked, “Can you hear me?”

It was as if Hannibal’s voice shattered the noise. It dissipated into a million fragmented pieces until fading away completely. He hoped it wouldn’t return. “Y-yes, I can now.”

“What are you hearing?”

“Just a – a hum, I guess,” Will said. He looked up to see Hannibal looming over him with hardly any space between them. His body relaxed. He felt safe, and he wasn’t sure why something gnawed in the back of his mind. A large part of him wanted to tuck his head against Hannibal’s neck and sleep, but he fought that urge. He continued, “Listen, I’m more worried about the lost time.”

“You need to rest,” Hannibal said. “If you won’t return to the hospital, I’ll insist that you stay here where I can observe you.”

Will sighed at the word observe. “Are we friends or am I a lab rat?”

“We are friends,” Hannibal said, firmly. Will was certain Hannibal’s eyes burrowed into him, but he looked away instead of checking. Hannibal continued, “I’m doing this because we are friends. I care about you, and I don’t want you to harm yourself more because you are worked up about this. Hallucinations are connected to sleep deprivation. Maybe once you sleep, we’ll be able to solve what happened.”

Will frowned. Hannibal doubted that Will bought it, so he added, “I know I will be able to help you better with a night’s rest. I can’t think clearly when someone drags me out of bed in the middle of the night.”

Will’s shoulders slackened, and he nodded. “I’m covered in dirt.”

“And I will not let you into my sheets like that,” Hannibal said. “A bath will relax you and, with your permission, I would like to give you a sedative. It’s very mild and non-habit-forming – just an over-the-counter pill.”

This was a lie.

“I don’t like – I don’t want to take it.”

Hannibal rubbed Will’s shoulders and softly replied, “It’s just to help you sleep through the night without interruptions. Aren’t you tired of waking up every hour in a puddle of your own sweat?”

“Yes but –“

“It’s just one night,” Hannibal said. “I won’t recommend it again.”

This was the truth.

Will rubbed the bridge of his nose again. Hannibal considered slipping the pill into his drink regardless. Will said, “I’m afraid I’ll forget.”

“Forget what?”

“What I’m doing here.”

“But you don’t remember now.”

“I feel like I should.”

“Sometimes you remember your dreams in fragments throughout the day as you go about your business,” Hannibal said. “Maybe your memory will return that way.”

“And sometimes you never remember them and you just wake up with a sense of unease or fear that won’t leave you even though you don’t remember why it’s there,” Will replied.

Folding his arms across his chest, Will stared down Hannibal’s hallway. Hannibal watched Will’s blue eyes glaze over, and the doctor assumed Will listened something else. Will’s eyes widened and then followed something for a moment, but then his eyes glazed over again. Hannibal wondered what he saw.

“I can make us something to eat and we can stay up all night talking while the noise in your head grows louder,” Hannibal said, “or you can draw a bath, take the pill I offered, and sleep. You know which one I prefer, but I am willing to do both because I am your friend and I want you to be happy and comfortable.”

He was also willing to drug Will and toss him into his bed, but he didn’t really want to fight to get dirt out of his sheets the following morning. If this became a routine he would need to acquire sheets specifically for a dishevelled Will. And perhaps more towels too.

Hannibal almost didn’t hear Will when he softly replied, “I’ll sleep.”

“Perfect,” Hannibal said. “I’ll show you to the bathroom. Let me take your jacket and I will find something else for you to wear.”

“I don’t suppose you’d have anything to my tastes,” Will said, offering Hannibal a half-smile.

A joke. How delightful. Hannibal smiled back and placed his hand on the small of Will’s back as he led him to the bathroom. “If you dislike what I offer you, you are more than welcome to sleep in the nude. I will not complain.”

His sheets might, but the pros would outweigh the cons. Will gave Hannibal a wider smile, but made no reply. He went into the bathroom Hannibal pointed out, handing the doctor his jacket as he went in. “I’ll knock on the door when I have your drink,” Hannibal said. “Do you want anything to eat? It’s not recommended before you go to sleep, but I don’t want you to sleep on an empty stomach either.”

“I’m fine,” Will replied. After a pause he made brief contact eye contact as he said, “Thank you.”

Hannibal smiled at Will until his friend shut the door. Hannibal walked to the kitchen and tossed the notebook and jacket onto the counter. While he listened to the water run, he started a kettle so that Will would have warm water and also to justify the time he spent away from Will. Grabbing a pencil, he rubbed it over the notebook’s indented page. The words “Check the man behind Hannibal’s veil” appeared to him. He thought of Dr. Du Maurier’s words to him and hoped it was just a coincidence.

But these words must mean that part of Will realized he couldn’t be trusted. He tried to decide why Will arrived on his doorstep. He either realized the whole truth and came to confront him or he thought it was a possibility and came to test the waters. But he didn’t remember now. Perhaps part of Will sensed something was wrong or different between them, but he didn’t remember the whole truth. And he couldn’t.

However, there was the original piece of paper out there reminding Will of the truth. Hannibal checked the pockets of Will’s jacket and found the original piece of paper in with his keys.

Oh. That was simple.

If Will hadn’t found the keys, or if he had put his keys in his other pocket, he would have stumbled onto the truth. Smiling to himself, Hannibal tore up the original note, the piece of paper he used to read the original note, and several other pages of the notebook for safe measure. He placed the fragments into the garbage under the sink where it wouldn’t be easy for Will to find.

While Hannibal searched his cabinets for the pill he needed, he considered how a countdown was beginning. Will would piece together what he had forgotten at some point, but like Will’s jumbled clocks, Hannibal had no idea of how much time he had left. Would Will wake up with the answers behind his eyelids? Or would it simply be a feeling of unease for weeks and weeks?

He only had so much time to manipulate Will to try to keep his friend on his side. As curious as he was as to how Will would treat him once he discovered the truth, he wasn’t ready to lose Will’s friendship. It sounded strange even in his thoughts. When he told Dr. Du Maurier about being Will’s friend, he spoke the truth while also realizing that it could easily be another piece in Will’s ultimate downfall – something to make everyone’s head turn away from Hannibal and stay on Will.

But the truth was, in Will there was the potential for a person to see him and understand him so perfectly. Like with Abigail Hobbs, he could have a partner-in-crime as they say. He held a power over Abigail that he hoped to hold over Will. With Will being unstable, he could be easily manipulated. He just needed to tighten his grip on Will’s puppet strings. Could he convince Will to kill with him? Could he convince Will to simply live with him? How far could he push Will? It would be a real pity to kill him now. He would always wonder what Will could have become with him. He had so much potential.

There was this strange overwhelming goodness in Will that made him afraid of his ability to see into people like him, and Hannibal wondered if he could sweet talk and manipulate it into the darkness inside of him. Then he would have a partner – someone he could trust, and, let’s face it, someone interesting enough to hold his attention in the long-term.

He couldn’t rely on others like himself. He couldn’t trust them, not really. But Will’s purity made him weak and easy to manipulate. He could trust Will.

He could trust Will until Will discovered the whole truth on his own. He was a Wildcard then. He turned a blind eye to Abigail, but he probably considered it self-defence.

Pulling the pill out of a bottle, Hannibal realized he only had so much time to manipulate Will into trusting him completely. He mentally patted himself on the back for having the foresight to mention the pill from the beginning. It would make Will more passive and more willing to believe the words coming from his mouth while at the same time stripping him of restraint. And it would make Will sleep through the night, like he promised. He hoped to get more insight into Will’s memory while planting more seeds of trust – seeds that would grow to strangle his doubts and fears, seeds that would grow into affection.

Maybe even love.

He poured a glass of water and dropped the pill in, watching it dissolve so Will couldn’t decipher what the pill was.

Hannibal tried not to think of his affection for Will. He felt it as soon as he walked into the kitchen to see Will splattered with Garret Jacob Hobbs’ blood, quivering with fear while desperately trying to stop Abigail’s bleeding. He was interested in Will before, sure, and seeing how Will’s moral compass worked so hard to overcome his overwhelming fear was even more intriguing, but seeing him so scared and bloody was delicious. It began an infatuation he didn’t know what to do with. It created fantasizes he never had before. Licking a victim’s blood off of Will. Watching Will carve up anyone. Holding hands over a bloodied corpse. He hadn’t thought of doing these things with another person before – well, another person other than the victim.

And saving Abigail made Will interested in him. He could see how Will’s breathing steadied when he took over to save her. Gripping Abigail’s neck was like holding Will’s hand for the first time. It comforted Will. It made Will understand, however wrongly, that there was no reason to be afraid when they were together.

Maybe it sparked something in Will too.

Hannibal lifted the glass of water and walked back to the bathroom. He wouldn’t waste time hoping Will returned his affections. Like himself, Will spent so much time building walls that Hannibal knew he needed to spend time getting underneath them and rooting himself behind them. Will needed to trust him, especially if part of him knew the truth.

While Hannibal mused about his relationship with his friend, Will struggled with his reality in the bathroom. He stripped down and stumbled into the tub fine, and he closed his eyes as the warm water washed over him. Showers were better for scrubbing off dirt, but the bath would make him tired and Hannibal wanted him drowsy.

The hum started again and Will squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown the sound out. Pain burrowed into his temples, and Will gritted his teeth to try to suppress it, to try to overcome it. Fear nipped at the back of his neck. Was he going insane? Was he dying?

The noise abruptly stopped again, but when Will opened his eyes, he saw a wall of water in front of him, a wave that would swallow him whole. Closing his eyes again, he braced himself and told himself he fell asleep in the bathtub. He told himself not to be afraid. Hannibal was close. He was in his house. There wouldn’t be a wave.

He waited, but when the force never came to sweep him away, he opened his eyes again. The bathroom was filled completely with water up to his neck. The water was still and contained within the understated beige walls. He could see the tile bathroom floor beneath the water, though his limbs didn’t touch it. His body felt light; he floated in the water. As a smile crept onto his face, a dark figure caught his eye.

The stag.

The creature stood on top of the water. It slowly walked across the water to him with its hoofs causing ripples as it moved. Even if Will had somewhere to swim away, he didn’t. He didn’t feel fear. When the stag reached him, it bowed its head down to meet him. Will looked into its black eyes. The stag nuzzled his forehead.

Its warmth surprised Will.

A loud knock on the door cracked the vision, and he gripped the edges of the tub to keep from slipping. “Come in,” Will said.

Silence. Will wondered if he imagined the knock. “Are you certain?” Hannibal asked on the other side of the door.

“Yeah,” Will said. “You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve seen me in my underwear. You might as well see me naked too.” Really, Will just needed another person in the room to help him cement his reality.

The door opened, and Hannibal walked in holding the glass of water. He approached with caution and kept his eyes on Will’s face. Will slouched in the bathtub until the water touched his chin. He reached up as Hannibal handed him the glass.

“I dissolved the pill in the water,” Hannibal said. “It should be easier to ingest that way.”

“Thanks.”

Will took a drink of the water, noting the grainy texture and chalky taste. He thought it probably would’ve been easier to swallow the pill. He took another gulp, hoping to end things quickly. Hannibal caught his eye as the doctor kneeled down on the floor next to him. “How are you feeling, Will?”

“More relaxed,” Will said with a half-smile. “Am I cleaner?”

“There’s still some on your face,” Hannibal said.

Will wasn’t sure why his heart started pounding as Hannibal stared at him. After a moment’s pause, Hannibal dipped his hand into the water and wiped Will’s cheek. Hannibal’s hand lingered, cupping his cheek. The doctor leaned towards him, tilting Will’s head downwards to kiss his forehead. Heat rushed to Will’s cheeks.

With his lips still against Will’s forehead, Hannibal murmured, “I care about you. I don’t want to see you hurt. If you can’t take care of yourself, I will.”

Will was relieved he didn’t have to looked into Hannibal’s eyes. He closed his own and felt Hannibal’s breath on his forehead before the doctor pulled away. Standing up, Hannibal said, “I will get you something to wear.”

Will opened his eyes to see Hannibal leaving. The doctor didn’t turn around or close the door, leaving Will to wonder exactly how Hannibal cared about him. After Alana turned him down, Will tried to strip his life of romance completely. And he valued Hannibal’s friendship and counsel. He couldn’t risk throwing that away.

He thought of Hannibal’s thin lips smile and smiled himself. He sank deeper into the water, but didn’t submerge. He feared if he washed his forehead the warmth would leave it.

His body felt light again, like in his dream, except he was almost certain he was awake. He pulled the stopper out of the tub and climbed out, turning his back to the door as he wrapped a towel around his waist. When he turned around again, he saw the stag. It walked out of the bathroom, and Will followed it with a certain determination, though he wasn’t certain why. His wet feet slipped against the hardwood floors.

Will thought the hallways seemed out of a horror movie. The dado treatment matched the wood of the hardwood floors, and the rests of the walls were painted a bile green. As he walked deeper into Hannibal’s house, watching the feathered backside of the stag, he couldn’t tell how far he walked or how long he’d been walking. He only saw the wet footprints he left behind him and the endless panels in front of him. The stag was always several steps ahead of him.

The stag turned into a room, but when Will entered the room, the creature was gone. Hannibal had taken off his robe, and he stood at an antique looking dresser that was positioned against the deep red walls. A dull numbness settled in, and yet he felt strong – confident. He had an urge to open stuck pickle jars. He was undefeatable. He wouldn’t feel any pain. Hannibal went through his clothes in the dresser. Turning to look at Will, he said, “You are soaking wet.”

“Yes.”

Hannibal looked at Will’s footprints on his floors and tried not to cringe. Will took the towel off from around his waist and dried off there. Hannibal looked away and said, “I found a pair of novelty pyjama pants you could sleep in. A patient gave them to me as a rather thoughtless Christmas present. I thought one of my old t-shirts would work as well. I’ve washed them both, and you can keep them both after tonight.”

He handed them to Will, and Will looked at the pants. They were covered in a cartoon character Will vaguely remembered, but he couldn’t place the name. He couldn’t imagine Hannibal in them, but he wasn’t going to be picky. He stepped into them. They were still stiff, not quite worn-in. The soft t-shirt was the opposite. Despite Hannibal’s claim that he washed it, his smell lingered on it. Will’s insecurities and fears slowly trickled back into him, but Will felt safe with the shirt on.

“Am I sleeping here?” Will asked.

“You certainly are.”

“I don’t want to force you onto the couch.”

“I am not sleeping on the couch,” Hannibal said, using his foot to steer the towel and mop up Will’s footprints and drips. “You are not kicking me out of my bed, Will. Besides, I will be able to keep an eye on you if I’m with you and prevent you from wandering off. It is a King-sized bed; you won’t have to worry about rolling into me unless you want to.”

He gave Will a smile. Will’s eyes avoided his, but that was nothing new. “I have night sweats,” Will said. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Hannibal said. “I’ll get an extra towel in case you need it during the night.”

Hannibal walked out of the room, dragging the towel with him by his foot to mop up the floor. Will smiled absently at the massive bed with chocolate-coloured sheets and a thick red comforter. The comforter matched the colours of the bedroom, but it seemed less overwhelming on a bed. He could see where Hannibal tossed aside the comforter to answer the door. Will wondered if the dishevelled sheets were the realest part of Hannibal’s home. Everything felt like it was for show.

Why did Hannibal need such a large bed? Will didn’t see him running around with anyone romantically to share it. It was lavish and expensive. It was to show off to guests in his home.

Will wondered how much of Hannibal he’d really seen.

Will pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut as the pain and noise returned to his head. He had hoped that the pill would push it all away, but with that thought it vanished. He opened his eyes again to see endless amounts of beige antlers lining Hannibal’s red walls. Will’s eyes crawled across the walls, trying to remind himself that the antlers weren’t there.

Hannibal stepped into the room. Will could see his lips moving, but he couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything. His breathing quickened as he grabbed his ears, his eyes darting from one set of antlers to the other. A sudden weight on his shoulders made him jump, and he found himself staring directly into Hannibal’s brown eyes.

He thought of the soft kiss to his forehead. The words that were a mix of compassion and a threat. Heat filled his head. He saw Hannibal’s lips moving, and the doctor pulled his hands away from his ears. Will wanted Hannibal to hold him and kiss his forehead again, and a part of him he didn’t recognize screamed for him to take it. Will pulled his eyes away from Hannibal and saw the antlers were gone. “It’s not real,” Will said, more to himself.

“I shouldn’t have chosen this colour scheme for my bedroom. I had a similar reaction.”

Will looked back at Hannibal and saw a small smile on his lips. Will laughed weakly and returned it. “Are you ready to sleep?” Hannibal asked.

“I think so,” Will said.

“Get into bed. I’ll turn off the light since I know my way around in the dark.”

Will slipped under the sheets on the other side of the bed. He folded his arms behind his head as Hannibal flicked off the lights. He barely felt the weight of the bed change as Hannibal slipped in, and Will wondered what sort of mattress it was. He doubted Hannibal would let him put a full wine glass on the bed and jump on the mattress to see if it spilled.

As he thought of a glass of red wine spilling onto a pure white mattress, an unsettling fear settled into his stomach. He breathed in the smell of the sheets, the smell of the shirt. He was safe here.

“How is the pill working?” Hannibal asked.

“Wide awake,” Will said. “More than before.”

Hannibal looked at the outline of Will’s face in the darkness. He thought of Will sitting in the bathtub, looking sweaty and afraid. He thought of Will covered in blood. He thought of Will having a seizure in his kitchen. Never a dull moment.

And even the moments that should be dull never felt that way.

“I think of your strays a lot,” Hannibal said.

“Thanks again for feeding them.”

Hannibal exhaled. “I think of how you collect these creatures wandering around in the night – afraid and alone. I think of your friends, like Jack Crawford, who are lonely and yet surrounded by people.”

“Sometimes I’m not sure I’d call Jack a friend,” Will said.

“Will, my point is I think you collected me into your pack of strays. I always keep a safe distance from the people around me – maybe because of disinterest, I am not certain – but here you are, laying in my bed.”

“You think I’m sick.”

“I know you’re sick,” Hannibal said. “But if that was the only factor, you would be in the hospital instead of here.”

Will didn’t reply.

Hannibal waited before saying, “This isn’t a criticism. I enjoy being in your pack. I enjoy feeling like I belong somewhere – and I suppose it doesn’t matter where I am, so long as I know you’re nearby. I’m just not certain how it happened. It’s odd. An unexpected friendship.”

“You predicted it from the start.”

“Perhaps.”

Neither man said anything. Hannibal stayed facing Will, hoping he wouldn’t see him in the darkness. He watched Will’s chest rise and fall, and somehow it was a relief knowing that he was still breathing. He wasn’t sure if what he said was the truth, or if it was just something to make Will like him, but it felt true enough. He felt at home with the only person who could see who he really was, but when Will saw that, it would all be over. He exhaled.

“What would you have done if you had found blood on my hands tonight?”

Will had turned over and was facing him.

“I don’t understand.”

Will asked, “Would you have treated me like Abigail and helped me cover it up? Or would you turn me in?”

“Neither of those things are my choices,” Hannibal said. “I would advise you one way or the other, but the ultimate decision would be yours and I would accept and trust your judgement. Just like with Abigail.”

Will didn’t reply, but he didn’t roll onto his back either. He assumed Will carefully watched him in the darkness.

Hannibal continued, “Will, I thought, perhaps, I could be your way out of dark places. You come to me in most crises, and I always try to assist you the best I can. If you’re losing your grip on reality, I’ll be the sort of ground that grasps back.”

“Like quicksand.”

Hannibal tried not to laugh. “I know sometimes you don’t want my help or my opinion, and sometimes maybe it feels like I’m suffocating you, but you yelled at me once where you said I was supposed to be your paddle. I want to be, I’m trying to be, but if I’m your paddle, you still need to hold onto me to make me work.”

“So are you the ground or the paddle?” Will said.

Hannibal smiled when he heard the smile in Will’s voice. He was winning. “I am whatever you need me to be.”

The silence settled in, and Hannibal doubted he needed to say more. It would take a mighty piece of evidence to make Will suspect him of anything now because Will wouldn’t want to see him as a killer, and seeing him as a cannibal would make Will (rightly) question every meal Hannibal prepared for him, down to the first one. Will wouldn’t want to do that. He had enough nightmares. He would procrastinate. He was a procrastinator, after all.

And Hannibal felt smug, mainly. A small victory. Notebook destroyed. Will’s faith in him strongly reinforced. Plus he got to see him sweaty in tiny underwear and then nude and in the tub. And he even snuck a kiss. It was well worth getting out of bed for. He thought of Will’s hair against his nose and considered what it would feel like tightly grasped in his fist.

Hannibal flinched as Will reached out to him, but the darkness covered the flinch from his friend’s keen eyes. Will touched Hannibal at the wrist, drawing closer beneath the sheets as his hand ran up Hannibal’s forearm. Hannibal realized the pill had won in Will’s system, and he noted Will’s interrogation about his bloody hands should have been the sign, if not Will’s comfort with his own nudity. Will’s hand crept past his elbow and onto his bicep, pushing his pyjama sleeve up as it moved.

“Am I misunderstanding the way you care about me, Dr. Lecter?”

“No.”

Hannibal actually thought of Will shaking and covered in blood, and he imagined how sticky Will’s hand would be on his body if Will had touched him like this then. He thought of the blood drops on his forehead and it matted into his brown curls. He wasn’t sure caring was the right word for his feelings for Will – an arousing curiosity, maybe. He wanted Will to be fine, but only to further his own agenda. If Will planned to turn him in, he wanted to make sure Will was close enough to him that he could gut him first.

He thought about what Will would look like gutted, and he then wondered what his stomach would taste like in a stew.

Will’s hand pressed against the center of his chest and he was so close to Hannibal that his arm bent when touching his chest. Hannibal watched Will intently, making no movement, knowing that giving Will control would only help to cement the trust further. Will’s eyes stayed on Hannibal’s neck.

“I don’t need you to be this – to be more,” Will said, “but I want it. I’ve thought about it in the back of my mind, but I didn’t realize how much I wanted it until you kissed my forehead. And I didn’t think it was a good idea until you said you trusted my judgement. No matter what happens or what we become, you’ll always let me make my own decisions, right? I will want to hear your suggestions and I always value your council, but I can’t lose the final word. I need you to let me have control over my life.”

“I will,” Hannibal said, lightly pressing his hand on top of Will’s.

Will smiled and leaned his face closer to Hannibal’s. “I’m Will,” he murmured.

“And I’m Hannibal,” he replied, twisting his arms lightly around Will. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

Will pressed his thumb against Hannibal’s chin, tilting the man’s head down to lightly kiss him. Hannibal kissed back, consciously making an effort to stay gentle and to follow Will’s lead. Will lifted his hand off of Hannibal’s arm to grasp the back of his head, pulling him deeper into a kiss. Hannibal breathed him in, opening his eyes just enough to watch Will’s closed ones through his eyelashes. Releasing Hannibal’s chin, Will let his hand creep down the other man’s chest, tugging at the waist band of his pyjama pants.

“Tell me if I’m going too far,” Will said.

“You would run out of gas before you reached too far with me,” Hannibal murmured against his lips.

Will smiled in the darkness and Hannibal kissed him, a bit rougher than he intended too. Much to his dismay, Will slid his hands down the back of his pants, squeezing his bare ass and pulling Hannibal’s body against him instead of touching his cock. Hannibal thought of bending Will over in front of him, pinning Will’s arms behind his back, and fucking him until he heard all the different noises Will would make. He moved his hips against Will and lightly twisted his fingers into his hair. Hannibal kissed Will gently again, wondering how to get at least one of his friend’s hands back to the front of his pants.

Will thought Hannibal was finally being himself, was finally letting loose, but the doctor fought with himself. Don’t bite. Don’t dig your nails in. Don’t draw blood. Be gentle. Be passive. Give Will control. He softly sucked Will’s lower lip as he pulled away. But Will’s lips followed his own, and Hannibal carefully watched as Will first nuzzled him before pressing their lips together again. With his hands on Hannibal’s ass, Will kept their groins pinned together, gently grinding his own hips against Hannibal’s to feel the doctor’s erection against his own.

Will thought of Alana’s body against him as he kissed her – he initiated it then, too. It was slow and gentle, and the killer’s music in his head stopped as he breathed her in. He felt her fingers in his hair as she kissed him deeper, and he leaned his forehead against hers as they talked. She was soft and warm, though her nose was cold from being outside. He tried to shut her up with another kiss, a harder one, but she was careful not to touch him the second time, careful not to get sucked in. She left him alone with a hole in his chimney.

But Hannibal’s body felt different, thicker and more solid, his kisses more determined and less passionate. Hannibal felt present and calculated. He consciously touched and kissed Will, and, even with his eyes closed, Will felt watched. Will relaxed with the comfort of knowing that Hannibal knew exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t a whim. He still feared, like Alana, Hannibal would come to his senses and reject him, so he wanted to feel as much as he could and, perhaps, prove to Hannibal that he would be a suitable match. Or that he would at least give a decent enough hand job that the doctor might like another on a separate occasion.

Will slid one hand around to the front of Hannibal’s pyjama pants to feel the extent of his erection. The other hand crept up Hannibal’s back, and he kissed the doctor’s neck as his fingers teased the underside of his shaft. “Is there anything you weren’t given the best of/blessed with?” Will muttered against Hannibal’s neck.

“There are plenty of penises more impressive than mine.”

“I must not have seen enough then,” Will said.

“You haven’t even seen mine.”

Will lightly drew circles on the head of Hannibal’s cock with his thumb, holding the man’s chin with his other hand to achieve another kiss. Hannibal’s tongue slipped past Will’s lips, tasting his saliva and the hint of minty toothpaste. Will’s stubble scratched against his face, and he wondered if his skin would be red the following morning. He bucked into Will’s grasp as Will started to jerk him off faster.

“Wait,” Hannibal said.

He turned his upper body away from Will, feeling his friend’s fingers trace down the underside of his shaft. Opening his bedside drawer, he pulled out a container of lubricant and squeezed it into the palm of his hand. The fingers of Will’s free hand dipped into the small pile of lube on Hannibal’s palm. Hannibal kissed Will again while Will spread the lubricant across his cock and returned to jerking him off.

Hannibal tugged at the front of Will’s pyjama pants and murmured, “May I?”

“I worried you wouldn’t.”

Hannibal pulled Will’s pants down past his hips and gave Will’s cock a firm stroke with his lubricated hand. After his other hand trailed up his back to curve Will’s body against his own, he gripped the back of Will’s neck and kissed him deeper, muffling a soft noise from Will. Hannibal guided Will’s shaft against his own, encircling both cocks with his grip and jerking them off slowly together. He briefly kissed down Will’s neck as Will placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on the back of his head, relinquishing control to Hannibal.

Will guided Hannibal’s mouth back to his own, his thoughts growing foggy as Hannibal increased the rhythm of his wrist, his thumb gently putting pressure against the head of his cock. Keeping his eyes shut, Will concentrated on the sensation of Hannibal against him. His nimble fingers. His warm breaths. His soft lips. Hannibal nuzzled him, propping their foreheads together as he watched Will’s expression change while he jerked them off faster.

When Will twisted his fingers into Hannibal’s hair, he thought he felt feathers there. He squeezed his eyes shut as he recognized Hannibal’s breath as the breath of the stag. He panted against Hannibal’s lips, bucking his hips in time with Hannibal’s rhythm. He knew he touched Hannibal. It smelt like him. But he was still afraid to open his eyes. He gripped Hannibal’s head with both hands, feeling Hannibal kiss him again, prying his mouth open with his own.

Hannibal drew a soft moan from Will’s mouth and felt his friend begin to spill across his fingers. He breathed Will in, delighting in the sensation of Will’s tightening grip. Will thought he felt hard antlers in Hannibal’s hair and pulled his hand away, gently placing it on top of Hannibal’s hand to assure himself the doctor was really there. He couldn’t open his eyes. He urged Hannibal’s hand to go faster, drawing circles around the head of his cock with his thumb.

With his toes curling, Hannibal bucked into his own grip, watching Will through his eyelashes. He tried to read Will’s expression and didn’t understand why he thought he saw some fear there. Kissing Will’s forehead, Hannibal worked Will’s shaft faster, and as Will came, he pressed the thumb of his free hand against the skin behind Will’s testicles. Will shuddered against him, and he watched Will’s lips part and release a soft gasp.

Both of Will’s hands gripped Hannibal’s shaft, twisting in opposite directions. Cupping Will’s cheeks, Hannibal kissed him while Will worked faster to finish him off. When he came, Hannibal kissed Will harder to muffle whatever noise his body planned to betray him with.

Hannibal stroked Will’s cheek, waiting for his blue eyes to open. They didn’t. Will panted and nuzzled into his chest. Hannibal hugged Will, kissing the top of his head. He was suddenly uncomfortable with the waistband of his pyjamas against his flaccid shaft and the sticky semen between them.

“I’m just going to leave for a moment to wipe up,” Hannibal murmured.

Will tightened his grip on Hannibal. “Stay.”

“I’m uncomfortable.”

Will made no motion to release him. Hannibal sighed. He released his grip on Will to put his cock away and returned the favour for Will. He then hugged his friend again. “Are you all right, Will?”

“Stay with me.”

Hannibal remembered the evening when Will burst into his house, scaring Tobias Budge away, and declared that he kissed Alana. Hannibal said he kissed her as a clutch for balance. Was that all this was? Was Will afraid whatever he saw in the night would swallow if he let him go, even if only for a moment?

“I won’t leave.”

Will turned over, firmly planting his ass against Hannibal’s groin and resting the back of his head against Hannibal’s nose. Hannibal breathed him in. Ah, to be the little spoon. Hannibal was certain his arm would fall asleep at any moment. He slid his hands up Will’s shirt to feel his bare skin.

Will opened his eyes in the darkness. Hannibal kissed the back of his head, absently rubbing Will’s skin with his thumbs. With Hannibal coiled around him, Will felt safe. He listened to Hannibal’s breaths turn steady and his limbs grow heavy against him as the doctor drifted off into sleep.

Will was wide awake.

He heard noises around him, the sounds of hooves against the hardwood. He thought he could feel the ground shake around him. He pushed back against Hannibal and felt the doctor nuzzle into his hair – but did he feel a nose or a snout? Something told him to pull away – to escape. Fear twisted around him, and its grip felt deeper than Hannibal’s.

When Will tried to pull away, Hannibal’s arms tightened around him. He made a noise in his sleep that Will couldn’t decipher. Will traced his fingers over Hannibal’s arms, feeling the light dusting of hair and soft skin. Will smiled.

He didn’t try to pull away again.


	2. Chapter 2

“I have to admit Dr. Lecter, I’m really rather infatuated with you.”

Hannibal’s brown eyes drifted to the man seated across from him in his office. Ian Wagner leaned forward in his chair, his fingers knitted together in front of his knees. The man’s blue eyes watched him cautiously, and a smile sat in his thick, blond beard.

When Hannibal opened his mouth to respond, Ian Wagner waved his hand flippantly in the air – as if to tell Hannibal to ignore it – and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not expecting anything to happen. Infatuations have happened before with me and my psychiatrists, and I mistake your professional care as a genuine interest in me. I thought I should be upfront about it because you’re bound to notice the way I act around you. I promise it won’t hinder my own development, and I feel as though I’ll work harder with someone like you trying to help me.”

Hannibal closed his mouth. Ian’s confession hit Hannibal like a bucket of ice water. It reminded Hannibal that he woke up in bed alone. He sought out Will, but his friend’s jacket was gone from the kitchen and his home was empty. He didn’t want to cancel his appointments to seek out Will during the day, and he had an appointment with his friend later in the evening.

He couldn’t decide if Will would show up or not. He wasn’t sure why Will fled in the morning, and it easily could have been an emergency. The polite thing would have been to leave a note. He tried not to let his curiosity about Will’s reaction settle in.

“I would feel more comfortable referring you to another doctor,” Hannibal said.

Hannibal didn’t want to refer him to another doctor. The patient had been referred to him by another doctor specifically because Wagner was a heart surgeon who accidentally killed his patient in a rather routine procedure. There was always the risk, but after Hannibal heard the details from Wagner’s mouth, he had a suspicion that Wagner did it on purpose. He wanted to keep tabs on Wagner in case he did it again or started wanting to do it again.

Part of him wanted Will Graham to storm into his office and shoot Ian for whatever crimes he committed. Ian Wagner was a large man – broad and muscular – and Hannibal would like to see him charge at Will, with his big hands reaching for him, before the smaller man took him down. In his fantasy Will would shoot Wagner in the face, and blood would spray across Hannibal’s. As Ian dropped to the ground, Will would cup Hannibal’s cheeks and ask him if he was fine. He would kiss his lips and Hannibal would taste the blood between them.

But Ian would have to commit crimes that would interest Jack Crawford first. Slipping up during surgery wasn’t something Crawford was likely to notice.

“I must insist that you don’t,” Ian said. “I’m tired of telling people the same old story. You know who I am. If I go to someone else, I’m going to be taking several steps backwards and you know that. And who’s to say that I won’t develop an infatuation with the next one? I like people who like me.”

“But I don’t like you.”

Wanger scoffed. “I like people who seem like they like me.”

He offered Hannibal a smile. Hannibal didn’t return it. Ian continued, “Can we at least try it? If you think my feelings get in the way, then you can refer me out of your life – to a woman, preferably. I’m not asking you to date me or even to think about it, I’m just asking you to help me and ignore the fact that I glance at your rear end when you bend over.”

Hannibal appreciated the compliment, but didn’t let it show. “So you objectify me.”

“We’re not going to talk about you, we’re going to talk about me,” Wagner said with a smug smile. “My fantasies would undoubtedly make you uncomfortable.”

Hannibal nodded though he doubted they would. “Since we’re on the subject, why don’t we discuss why you’re here?”

Ian absently rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. “I’d prefer not to.”

“Then what do you want to discuss today?”

“Have you heard of Tattlecrime.com?”

“Yes.”

“Sensationalist garbage,” Ian said, sighing. His eyes smiled at Hannibal as he continued, “I am absolutely hooked to it. I find myself wanting crimes to be committed just so I can read about them. Every day I dip my hands into someone’s chest and yet I still want more gore.”

Hannibal’s appointments continued throughout the day, and Will lingered in the back of his mind. Will covered in blood. Will sinking in the bathtub. Will’s stubble against his lips and cheeks. Will murmuring against him. It occurred to Hannibal that Will’s memories might have returned and he realized who Hannibal was, but he decided that an arrest would have likely been attempted by now if that had been the case.

When Will didn’t arrive for his appointment, Hannibal sought him out. He checked Will’s classroom, finding it empty, and then visited Jack Crawford in his office. Crawford looked up and smiled at Hannibal, offering a hand to be shook.

Hannibal shook it warmly.

Will’s memories definitely hadn’t returned then.

“What happened to your face?” Jack asked.

Hannibal touched his cheeks and realized that Will’s stubble had likely done a number on it. “Trying out a new facial cream – I must be a little allergic to it.”

Crawford stared blankly at Hannibal. “Facial cream.”

“It gets very dry in the winter.”

Crawford blinked.

“Have you seen Will? He’s missed an appointment with me.”

Crawford sighed and leaned back in his chair. “He’s all worked up about Georgia Madchen’s suicide. Checked himself out of the hospital yesterday and everything. He’s hassling my team, and I left to try to clear my thoughts.”

“Is it a suicide?”

“An accidental death, probably. Will’s determined it’s murder. He’s being very insistent and bothering the others about it. If you want to talk him down –“

“I’m afraid we had a bit of a tiff yesterday when he checked himself out and I might only rile him up more,” Hannibal replied. “I came to apologize, but if he’s worked up already, my presence will likely only make things worse. Too many people doubt him right now.”

“Is that what you said that bothered him? That you doubted him?”

Hannibal didn’t reply and Jack rubbed his face. Jack continued, “I’m afraid we’re losing him. Sometimes he doesn’t make sense, and Beverly said she notices him staring off into the distance at something, but nothing she can see. Has he mentioned any of these things to you?”

“I’ll look into it,” Hannibal simply replied, “but I will give him some space for the day.”

“Are you sure that’s wise?”

“I am certain that space is what Will needs from me.”

“Should I get Alana?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Well what am I supposed to do, Hannibal?” Jack asked, voice rising in frustration. “Should I just watch Will continue to drift away?”

“I will catch him before he drifts too far. I’ll try calling him tonight, but if he ignores my calls, I will make the effort to talk to him tomorrow.”

Hannibal left before Crawford could protest. He then left Will alone for three days. Will made no effort to reschedule his appointments, nor did Hannibal call to check up on him. The doctor found himself sleeping restlessly, half-expecting Will to show up on his doorstep. So on the fourth day, Hannibal stepped into Will’s classroom while his friend was still lecturing. When he entered the room, Will stopped talking and his eyes lingered on him for a second that felt like an hour to Hannibal. His eyes shot to the ground before he continued lecturing, and Hannibal noted some of the students checked to see who interrupted.

He assumed Jack Crawford often ended lectures early with interruptions, but Hannibal wasn’t quite so rude. He folded his hands together in front of him and waited patiently for Will to finish his lecture. Will wasn’t exactly eloquent. He stammered. He looked at the back of the classroom instead of making eye contact with his students. He paced restlessly as he talked or stood unsettlingly still.

Hannibal enjoyed watching him.

When the lecture finished, Will turned his back to Hannibal as the doctor approached him and said, “I suppose you’re here now so I can’t avoid you.”

Hannibal leaned close to Will, pretending to look over his shoulder at a document Will hadn’t yet shoved into his briefcase. He murmured against his ear, “I’m here now so I don’t grab your neck and force you against the wall to kiss you.”

Will glanced up at Hannibal, and heat visibly rushed to his cheeks as he checked to see if any of his students heard. None of them openly avoided his eye or gawked. Hannibal’s gentle voice didn’t carry to anyone but Will.

Will stepped away from Hannibal. “So that’s what you want to talk about.”

“It was rude to demand I stay with you only to leave me and then proceed to avoid me for the following days. If you had second thoughts, you could have talked to me about it. I’m your friend first, Will. I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

Will hesitated. His blue eyes darted between Hannibal’s eyes and his desk. Hannibal took a step closer. The classroom was empty. Will said, “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

“I heard. Jack’s worried about you.”

“So he sent you?”

“He sent me four days ago. I gave you your space.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I thought you would.” Hannibal smiled.

Will did not return it.

Will looked more dishevelled than usual. He hadn’t shaved since Hannibal last saw him, with his stubble thickening into a beard. He put the buttons into the wrong holes on his plaid shirt, and his tie was crooked and loosened. Hannibal had never liked the khaki pants, but at least Will put them on properly.

“Are you all right?”

“I’ve been wearing your shirt to bed,” Will said. “I feel safe in it. It keeps the nightmares away. I’d wear it all the time, but your smell is fading from it already.”

Hannibal smiled. “You can acquire my smell whenever you want.”

Will finally gave Hannibal a weak one in return. Hannibal approached Will and started to unbutton his shirt. “You mixed up the holes,” he explained.

As Hannibal buttoned his shirt back up, Will rested his forehead against the doctor’s. “I can’t lose you,” he said.

“You won’t.”

He tucked Will’s shirt back into his pants and then stepped away, waiting to see if Will would press up against him on his own. He didn’t.

Hannibal said, “You can decide if you want our relationship to continue in the way it went the other night, but until you decide, you’re going to have to keep talking to me.”

“Do you want it to take that direction?”

“Since I first met you.”

Hannibal couldn’t exactly say, “Since I saw you splattered with Garret Jacob Hobbs’ blood,” so he fibbed a little bit.

Will blinked. He didn’t look into Hannibal’s eyes; he already suspected there was sincerity there. He wondered how Hannibal felt when he stormed into his house declaring that he kissed Alana. Was it jealously? It didn’t show. He thought of Hannibal’s body against his own. He thought of Hannibal’s strong arms tightly around him, keeping him from escaping into the night.

Beverly Katz stormed into the classroom. “Will, we’ve got to go.”

Will looked to Hannibal, and Hannibal said, “I’ll wait for you in my office if you need to talk.”

Hannibal wanted to come, but neither Will nor Beverly invited him. He wished Jack interrupted – Jack would have let him tag along. Beverly and Will were too busy champing at the bit to think to include him.

With his voice sounding hoarse, Will said, “All right.”

Hannibal watched as Beverly and Will left the classroom. Beverly said, “Jack thinks it’s the Chesapeake Ripper. I haven’t seen it yet – I was looking into something else, but Price, Zeller, and Jack are already there.”

“I’ll drive,” Will said.

Will pretended not to notice Beverly glancing at him as he drove to the scene. Rain poured onto the windshield, and Will flicked on the wipers, squinting to try to see the road.

It was a full minute before Beverly looked out the window and said, “Is it supposed to rain?”

“What?” Will asked.

He glanced at Beverly, but when he looked back out the window, the sky was as clear as the windshield. He turned off the wipers, careful not to look at his colleague who thinned her lips in thought. “Are you all right, Will?” she finally asked. “You’ve been acting increasingly agitated, and you’ve been snapping at us in the lab.”

“I’ve been agitated because no one believes Georgia Madchen was murdered. I’ve been agitated because I’m seeing connections no one else sees.”

“Is that why Dr. Lecter came to see you in the classroom?” Beverly asked.

“No.”

He realized he should have lied.

Silence.

Beverly said, “Will, you can talk to me.”

Will sighed. He could talk to her. She was the one he called when he encountered Georgia in the first place. She knew about his lost time. He couldn’t talk to Alana about Hannibal, and he didn’t particularly want to. He still cared for Alana, and he knew she wouldn’t approve of his behaviour. Worse, she would be upset Hannibal went along with it and would likely confront him. His life had enough drama and, quite frankly, he was tired of talking to psychiatrists.

Should he stay silent and let it knot up inside of him? Would it worsen his hallucinations and create more lost time?

“I slept with him.”

“What?”

“I lost time and ended up on his doorstep in the middle of the night. He wanted to take me to the hospital, but I refused, so he shared his bed with me.”

“So you just slept together.”

Will sounded frustrated and tired. Beverly watched him carefully as he said, “I don’t know the term, but something sexual happened as well.”

“He initiated it?”

“I initiated it.”

“Then why are you avoiding him?” Beverly asked. “I’m assuming you’re avoiding him, since he’s the one that came to your classroom.”

“When I woke up in his bed, I couldn’t tell if I had just dreamt it or if it actually happened,” Will said. “I was afraid and confused – not entirely certain of where I even was or if I was still asleep. It felt like waking up in a lion’s den and feeling the lion sleeping beside you.”

“So you regretted it?”

“No,” Will said. “Yes and no. I regretted it happening like it did. It doesn’t feel real.”

Beverly didn’t say anything right away; she turned her head forward to watch the road. Will hoped he didn’t burn his last bridge and tried to concentrate on the road.

“Are you still afraid?” Beverly asked.

Will nodded slowly. “I guess so. I’m afraid I initiated something with him for the wrong reasons. I was losing it – I’ve been losing it, you know that. That’s not a good reason to be with someone. I can’t be with him romantically just so he’ll take care of me; that’s not fair to him.”

“Well, you clearly care about him if you’re thinking all this out.”

“Seeing things from other people’s perspectives is what I do.”

“So you’d see you could take advantage of him if you wanted to,” Beverly said, shrugging. “But you don’t want to.”

Will tried to focus on the road instead of letting his thoughts overwhelm him. His head started to throb. Beverly said, “I don’t want the details, but did you enjoy being with him physically?”

“Yes.”

“If all the other factors weren’t there, would you want to be with him again?”

“I guess so.”

“You guess so?” Beverly asked, laughing. “How often do you fantasize about being with him?”

Will snapped, “A lot, okay?”

“I’m just saying, maybe you should approach him with these issues. ‘Listen, I enjoyed being intimate with you and I want to do it again, but I’m worried about using you. I don’t want to take advantage of you. What is your opinion on this issue?’ Except, you know, sexier. Maybe deepen your voice so its husky.”

Will smiled. He actually felt like smiling. He saw her smile too.

“You talk to him about your feelings all the time, right? This shouldn’t be that different.”

“I don’t talk to him about my feelings all the time. He says we’re just having conversations.”

“Well then have a conversation with him,” Beverly said. She noticed his eyes glazing over and continued, “This isn’t something you can think your way out of because it involves the feelings of another person. You’re going to have to have a dialogue with him at some point.”

“No, you’re right,” Will said. “It’s just not something I look forward to doing. Thanks for listening to this though. It sounds so petty compared to everything else we’re trying to do.”

“Well, if you get this sorted out, then you’ll have one less thing to stress about. You need less things to stress about so you can focus on the Madchen murder.”

Will smiled. She believed him. He said, “Speaking of stress-”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Beverly said. “Don’t worry. Mouth shut and locked.”

“Thanks.”

Beverly was proud of herself for solving this issue, but she struggled to get the image of Will and Hannibal humping out of her brain. She was looking forward to seeing a dead body – that’d get rid of that. She turned around to look out the back window. “Where the fuck are we?”

Beverly and Will eventually arrived on the scene. Will had missed a turn and ended up driving deeper into the country rather than into the edges of the city. If Will had known what he would see, he would have kept on driving.

The pair went through the police line and headed up into an apartment on the third floor. Fear knotted in Will’s stomach. Fear about what he would see. Fear about Hannibal rejecting him. Fear about his colleagues rejecting his opinions. Fear that Georgia Madchen’s murder would be misunderstood like her entire life. He went through the door and felt bile rise into his throat.

A male corpse sat in a wooden chair. Knives pinned both of his arms to either armrest. Something – a shower rod, maybe – was through his ankles and the legs of his chair. The man was naked, and there wasn’t much mutilation done to the torso, legs, or genitalia aside from the ankles. More knives through his shoulders forced the body upright. A metal wire around his neck kept his head from hanging down, and he could see several other places where the wire had dug into his skin, meaning whoever killed him either didn’t have a good grip or the man fought against the assailant. There were various incisions on the man’s chest, suggesting surgical trophies had been taken. The man’s eyes had been gouged out and were placed on his knees, pinned there with what Will suspected were very sharp chopsticks. Small knives with white handles lined the man’s scalp like a crown. Blood had dripped down his face.

Will saw Hannibal sitting in the chair. He wasn’t sure he could keep the bile down. He tried squeezing his eyes shut and opening them back up. He tried looking at the body from another angle. But no matter what, he saw Hannibal Lecter sitting in the chair, with bloody sockets in the place of eyes.

No one else reacted. He told himself it couldn’t be Hannibal because someone would have warned him. It couldn’t be Hannibal because he had just talked to him.

“Who has this many knives in his kitchen?” Jimmy Price asked.

“A butcher?” Zeller asked. “A cheese enthusiast?”

“Do cheese enthusiasts have a lot of knives?” Beverly asked.

“A knife for soft cheese, a knife for hard cheese,” Zeller said.

“That’s two knives,” Jimmy said.

“I’m not a cheese enthusiast,” Zeller said, raising his hands defensively. “I don’t know.”

Jack Crawford hadn’t said a word and watched Will. He wondered why all the colour had left Will’s face. What this Will looking over the edge? Had he lost him? Will took a step back from the scene and then turned around to leave the room. Jack grabbed his shoulder and asked, “Where are you going?”

“I have to go,” Will said.

“But where and why? Do you have any special insights you want to share with me?”

“No, not about this. Listen, I can’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not seeing things right,” Will said. “I don’t feel well.”

“Will, if you don’t think you can handle this one-”

Will raised his voice as he said, “I can’t see the victim. I see someone else. I have to go. I can’t help you now.”

Will brushed Jack’s hand off of him and left. Crawford didn’t follow him. The four left in the room turned to look at the corpse. They looked at the stubble on the man’s face and the curly brown hair matted with blood. They looked at his modest stature and build. They looked at the mutilated blue eyes on the man’s knees.

“It looks like Will,” Beverly said.

They all took a moment to appreciate the similarities and differences. The victim’s face was longer and his nose was larger. He was thinner than Will, but not noticeably so.

“So is it a clear threat to Will Graham, or is it a coincidence?” Jack asked.

Zeller said, “He’s been in The Tattler. He’s not completely unknown. The Ripper would know who Will is, I think.”

Jack sighed. It seemed like something The Ripper would do. He wondered if Will would be getting phone calls from The Ripper sometime soon. But why would The Ripper target Will instead of himself? Was he no longer afraid of Jack?

“Hey, uh, Will was my ride here,” Beverly said. “Who’s giving me a ride back?”

While the others investigated the victim further, Will stormed into Hannibal’s office and slammed the door shut behind him. Hannibal wasn’t startled by the noise or by Will’s sudden appearance. He sat in one of his black chairs, reading The Tattler on a tablet. His suit jacket hung on the back of his desk chair, but he still neatly wore his blue vest and red tie. He smoothed them out as Will tossed off his jacket. “Will. Are you back-”

Will took the tablet from Hannibal’s hand and threw it aside. He straddled Hannibal, kneeling on his legs on either side of him, and cupped his cheeks. Pressing his chest against Hannibal’s, he kissed him roughly. Hannibal tried to break away several times, but each time Will kept their faces together, extending the kisses and starting new ones. He didn’t care that Hannibal’s nose smudged his glasses.

Will kept thinking of the corpse in the chair, and Hannibal stayed stiff in his own, keeping his hands off of Will. He thought of the arms pinned to the chair with knives. He released Hannibal’s cheeks to wrap one of the doctor’s hands around his back, and the other followed suit on its own. Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s neck, and Hannibal bucked his hips upwards, rubbing against Will.

Hannibal appreciated his force and tried to contain himself.

When Will finally let the kiss end, he nuzzled Hannibal, propping their foreheads together. Hannibal looked directly into Will’s closed eyes to ask, “Are you all right?”

Will shook his head, and when he tried to kiss Hannibal again, Hannibal gently pulled his head away. Will opened his eyes, but avoided Hannibal’s.

“Just be with me,” Will said.

“What did you see?”

Will sighed, and Hannibal leaned his forehead back against his friend’s, hoping the contact would make him more comfortable and more eager to talk. Hannibal felt a shake in Will’s body as his friend described the scene to him. Will’s thumbs dug into the back of his neck as he insisted upon seeing Hannibal’s body in the place of the victim.

“I don’t even know what the victim looks like,” Will said. “Maybe he had a similarity to you, maybe he wasn’t even male. I could only see you.”

Hannibal, in fact, knew what the victim looked like. Hannibal read The Tattler on his tablet which carried photographs of the crime scene. He had thought Will would see himself, but Will had no idea the similarities he carried with the victim. How curious.

“What do you think that means?”

Will laughed weakly. “Either that you have an identical twin you haven’t told me about, or I’m completely losing my mind.”

“You’re taking on too much,” Hannibal said, absently untying Will’s tie as he spoke. “I think when your body stops letting you see the crime scenes clearly, you should take a break.”

“Just as the Chesapeake Ripper shows his face again – or fails to show his face, I suppose.”

“How do you know it’s the Chesapeake Ripper?”

“I don’t,” Will said. He moved his face away from Hannibal’s to raise his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose. Hannibal tossed his tie on the tray beside the table. “I shouldn’t have left the crime scene.”

“You did the right thing. If you weren’t seeing things clearly, you might not have made the right predictions. You could have destroyed the case completely. I will insist with Jack that you made the right decision, that you came to see me.”

Will sighed again. He didn’t say anything. Hannibal kissed Will’s forehead and gently pressed Will’s body back against his own. Will tucked his head underneath Hannibal’s so he could feel him without having to look at him. “Am I just clutching you for balance?”

Hannibal didn’t reply right away. He stroked his hair. He kissed his forehead again. “Did you think about kissing me before?” Hannibal asked.

“After Tobias Budge attacked you,” Will said. “When I saw that you were alive.”

Hannibal smiled against Will’s forehead. “I thought of kissing you then too.”

“We should have just lunged at each other, torn off our clothes, and made out on the desk,” Will said. “With everyone there.”

“You will recall I was injured.”

“I would have gotten that treated first, then clothes-ripping passion.”

Hannibal chuckled, and Will felt him rather than heard him. He liked the idea of Will ripping off his clothes. “So you were attracted to me when I was weak.”

“I was attracted to you when I thought I might have lost you,” Will corrected.

Was that why he liked Will when he saw him covered in blood? Because he survived? He said, “So you weren’t clutching me for balance then.”

“But I didn’t kiss you then.”

“But you didn’t have the opportunity to,” Hannibal said. “There were people around, and you had no idea if I would respond in kind or reject you.”

“It was just a fleeting thought.”

“What made you kiss me the other night?” Hannibal asked.

“I’m not sure. The whole night is foggy, like a dream. I just wanted to do it and nothing was telling me to stop and think about it. You were giving me positive signals and I felt comfortable and safe and when I heard you talk, I wanted nothing more than to feel your lips against mine.”

“To silence me because I drone on,” Hannibal replied with a smile.

“If I wanted you to shut up, I would have put something else there.” Will attempted to flirt.

“Your gun, you mean.”

Will laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed like that, and his face hurt briefly from smiling. He pulled his head away from Hannibal’s shoulder to prop their foreheads together again. Hannibal cupped his cheeks, smoothing out his facial hair. “So am I just clutching you for balance?” Will asked, glancing quickly at Hannibal’s eyes.

“It doesn’t matter as long as you’re still holding onto me when you regain your balance,” Hannibal said. “Isn’t supporting each other part of being in a relationship?”

“But it shouldn’t be the basis of one.”

“I don’t get the impression it was the basis for ours,” Hannibal said. “If it was, I doubt you would have kissed me as hard as you had and discussed ripping off each other’s clothes.”

“Alana said she would only be with me if I was stable.”

“Well, I am not Dr. Alana Bloom,” Hannibal said. “And it is her loss.”

Will exhaled, and Hannibal nuzzled Will with a smile on his face. Will struggled to smile. He kept seeing Hannibal pinned to the chair and feared the loss of him. Hannibal lightly bit down on Will’s lower lip, pulling their lips back together. He kissed Will with determination, hugging his friend’s body against him. Will’s head started to throb and he pulled away to ask, “Do you have any aspirin?”

Hannibal nodded, and Will got up off his lap. Both men felt cold as they parted, and Hannibal’s legs had fallen asleep underneath Will. Hannibal opened one of his desk drawers and handed Will the bottle. He watched as Will took two pills dry.

“Would you consider quitting?”

“We’ve discussed this before.”

“And I am still invested in our friendship,” Hannibal said. “If anything, my opinion should carry more weight now.”

“I don’t know if I can even work,” Will said. “If I can’t see the crime scenes, I can’t contribute. And, like you said, I could screw everything up. I’ll try to look at the new Chesapeake Ripper killing and see what happens, but maybe I should tell Jack I just can’t do it.”

“He’ll insist if it is the Chesapeake Ripper, but it still might not be,” Hannibal said. “You didn’t spend any time there.”

“It looked like it could be.”

“But you didn’t look very closely.”

“Can we talk about something else please?”

The two stood in silence, Hannibal leaning against his open desk drawer. “Is there anything else you need from my desk?”

“No. Wait, why? Do you have something in there?”

“Something that might be useful, yes.”

Will paused, trying to think of what Hannibal would keep in his desk drawer that he would be interested in. He thought of Hannibal insisting on feeding him, but couldn’t think of too many snack foods that would survive living in a drawer, especially the kind that Hannibal would make. Hesitantly, he asked, “Do you have cookies in there?”

“Cookies, Will? No,” Hannibal said. “No, why would I keep such a pedestrian dessert in my desk drawer?”

“Maybe a patient needs comfort food,” Will said. “You like to cook. I thought maybe they were home baked.”

“No. Will, I was trying to ask if we needed lubricant and/or a condom.”

“Oh.”

“I’m certain we can find somewhere that sells cookies if that is your current craving,” Hannibal said, closing the drawer.

“Wait, those things sound useful,” Will said. “I’m fine with that.”

“Both?”

Will nodded. “Both.”

“Would you prefer-“

“I thought we could go back on the chair and I would mount you,” Will said. “At least, that’s what I was thinking about on the drive over here.”

“And you’re comfortable with that, Will?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal nodded and took out the lubricant and a condom. He set them on the table beside the chair and said, “Could I ask for one thing first?”

“Sure.”

“May I rip off your shirt?”

“Seriously?”

“I can sew the buttons back on afterwards.”

Will smiled. “Whatever you want.”

With a blank expression, Hannibal grabbed the front of Will’s plaid shirt to roughly pull Will towards him. Heat rushed to Will’s cheeks, and a hot pulse rippled through his body. Buttons shot off his shirt as Hannibal tore it open. Hannibal kissed Will’s neck as he pulled the shirt off his back. Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s neck, twisting his fingers into his hair.

Unbuttoning Will’s pants, Hannibal kissed the dip where Will’s shoulder blade and neck met and hoped to leave a mark here. Will hadn’t expected Hannibal to be forceful, but the force made his cock throb and his knees weak. Hannibal pulled Will’s pants down past his knees, and Will said, “Wait.”

Hannibal pulled away quickly, letting his eyes run over Will in a predatory way as Will struggled to take off his pants. Will’s erection strained against his small boxers, and Hannibal cupped Will’s ass while he kissed the side of his head. “I’m trying to get out of my pants,” Will said, playfully pushing Hannibal away.

With his grip on Will’s ass, Hannibal lifted Will and kissed him. Will kicked off his pants and wrapped his legs around Hannibal, returning the kiss in kind. Hannibal backed into the chair, lifting Will onto his lap. Will took off his smudged glasses and set them on the side table. Hannibal stroked Will’s erection through his boxers, smiling at them.

“You know the first time we were alone together, you were in your underwear.”

“You barged in on me first thing in the morning and bullied your way in.”

“I fed you.”

Will shook his head and smiled. Hannibal kissed his smiling lips gently as he lightly jerked Will off through his underwear. Will’s eyelashes fluttered against him, and he moved his hips against Hannibal. Hannibal released Will’s cock, running his fingers up his friend’s thighs. “Are you ready?” Hannibal asked.

“You’re not going to undress?”

“Do you want me to?”

“No,” Will said. “I’m ready.”

Hannibal poured a small amount of lubricant onto his hand and spread it across his fingers. Pulling Will’s boxers down, Hannibal carefully pressed the tip of one finger into his ass. Hannibal propped his forehead against Will’s to nuzzle him and to feel his breath against him. Gently working the opening, Hannibal watched Will’s closed eyes. He gave Will’s erection, still in his boxers, a firm stroke before jerking him off. Licking his lips, Will moved his hips against Hannibal’s rhythm, forcing Hannibal’s finger deeper into him.

Pressing a second finger into Will, Hannibal gently kissed him while beginning to jerk him off harder. Will tightened his grip on Hannibal’s hair, gasping against his mouth. Hannibal watched Will bite his lower lip with his eyes squeezed shut. He moved his fingers faster, loving the control he had over his friend.

“Wait,” Will gasped. Hannibal didn’t until Will placed his hand on his arm. Smiling sheepishly, Will continued, “I’ll finish before you even start.”

Hannibal smiled back. “I’ll begin then.”

Will loosened his grip on Hannibal and rose up on his knees while Hannibal unbuttoned his pants and fished out his erection. Will took the condom, ripped open the wrapper, and carefully rolled it onto Hannibal’s erection. Squirting lubricant onto his hand, Will spread it across Hannibal’s cock while giving it a firm stroke.

With one hand on the base of Hannibal’s shaft, Will carefully mounted him. Hannibal kissed under his chin and murmured, “You set the pace.”

Hannibal kept his hands on Will’s hips, trying not to buck upwards as Will started to ride him. Will gripped Hannibal’s shoulders as he took more of his cock into his ass. Hannibal thought about slamming into him and hearing him cry out. He thought of flipping Will over and pounding into him. He kissed Will’s neck and pressed down on his thighs. Increasing the pace, Will let Hannibal slide deeper and deeper into him.

Gritting his teeth, Will tightened his grip on Hannibal’s shoulders as he rode him harder. Hannibal began bucking his hips up against Will, starting to pant despite himself. He watched Will part his lips before licking them. Kissing Will roughly, Hannibal pressed down on Will’s thighs to force himself completely into him. He ground up against Will’s ass, and Will squirmed against him, panting against his mouth.

When Hannibal removed his pressure from Will’s hips, Will moved himself faster against Hannibal while the doctor bucked back against his rhythm. Will kissed Hannibal again, flicking his tongue against the back of his teeth. Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s waist, responding with the kiss in kind. Will rode Hannibal rougher, smiling as Hannibal gasped against his mouth.

Finally freeing Will’s erection from his boxers, Hannibal wrapped his hand around his shaft so his cock would slide against it as he rode him. He tightened his grip when Will was particularly rough, feeling Will spill across the back of his hand. Will took all of Hannibal’s cock into his ass again, grinding his ass against his hips and kissing him again. Hannibal struggled to stay silent. They panted against each other, and he watched sweat roll through Will’s curly hair.

Will slammed down onto Hannibal as he came with a groan, and Hannibal pumped into Will several more times to reach his own climax. Will lifted himself off of Hannibal, and Hannibal steadied Will as he tried to walk. Will walked over to the sofa, stepping out of his underwear as he walked. With a smile, Hannibal watched him while he wiped his hand on a tissue, took off the condom, and threw it into the trash. He put his cock away and used another tissue to wipe at the semen on his vest.

Will sprawled out on the sofa, his chest rising and falling in a quick rhythm. His eyes lingered on Hannibal’s activities. Hannibal surrendered to the stain and took off his vest. Tossing it on the chair, Hannibal walked over to Will and sat down near his stomach. He ran his finger along Will’s bicep, and his friend gave him a sleepy smile.

“Do you want to take a nap here?” Hannibal asked.

“I might have to,” Will said. “Do you mind?”

“I have an afghan you can use.”

Hannibal draped the white afghan over Will, and they kissed briefly before Hannibal walked away. He grabbed the vest, and Will fell asleep watching Hannibal work out the stain with a glass of water. Once Hannibal won the war on the stain, he picked up his tablet, glanced at the picture of the so-called Chesapeake Ripper attack, and then turned it off. Grabbing several sheets of paper, Hannibal absently sketched Will’s changing expressions as his friend slept.

Night had settled in when he heard a noise. Without raising his head from the page, he said, “Hello Abigail.”

Abigail climbed down the ladder and looked over Hannibal’s shoulder. Will stirred in his sleep. “I didn’t know you drew people,” she said. “I’ve only seen the architecture.”

“It came from my love of anatomy,” Hannibal said. “When I was studying to be a doctor, illustrating the parts of a body helped reinforce the information and improve my memory.”

Hannibal, in fact, had a photographic memory. Drawing helped him illustrate his own fantasies. Several sketches that Abigail looked at now had a sleeping Will with no skin and were sketches where Hannibal focussed only on the musculature. Abigail ran her fingers over one of them, smudging his work. “Sorry,” she said.

“Don’t apologize,” Hannibal said with a smile. “They are only sketches.”

Will sat up abruptly, gasping for air. Will’s eyes quickly scanned the room, reminding himself where he was. He started to throw off the afghan, but then thought better of it when he saw Abigail in the room. He sat up, careful to make sure the afghan stayed around his waist. “Hey Abigail,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

She only offered Will a smile and flipped through Hannibal’s sketches. Will rubbed his face and looked at his glasses on the out-of-reach table. His headache firmly clutched his head, and every time he moved his eyes, it was as if the headache tightened its grip. Hannibal watched to see how they reacted to the other’s presence, but Abigail seemed unfazed by Will in the nude. Maybe she had always suspected something between them. Will stared at Hannibal, expecting him to fill the silence. He didn’t. Abigail moved away from Hannibal’s desk and said to Will, “I came to talk to Hannibal about this, but I suppose you’re the better one to talk to.”

She moved one of Hannibal’s chairs to face Will’s sofa. Will looked to Hannibal for help, but Hannibal simply smiled and sharpened his pencil with a scalpel. Abigail started, “You said that killing someone was the ugliest thing in the world.”

He leaned forward and nodded. “One of them,” he said.

“I finally get it. I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t feel ugly when I killed Nick Boyle. It felt good. That’s why it was so easy to lie about it.”

“Like you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Will smiled. It was a comfort to relate to her, but an unsettling fear rose in the back of his throat like bile. When he looked around the room, he saw ashy black antlers lining the walls. He tried to concentrate on Abigail and keep his breaths steady.

“Did you feel like you did something wrong when you killed my dad?”

He looked directly into her eyes, determined to tell the truth and see the truth in her. “I felt terrified,” he said, “and then I felt powerful.”

“It felt good,” she said, nodding. “To get to end it and stop it all. I thought I got away from him.”

“I don’t think either of us have gotten away from your father,” Will softly replied, trying to be comforting while she shook her head. It was hard with so much pain behind his eyes.

Hannibal’s hand lightly touched her shoulder, and as Will watched it, he thought he could feel its weight on his own. His eyes absently noticed the charcoal on Hannibal’s fingers and the scalpel in his other hand. The colour of the charcoal reminded him of the antlers watching him. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, feeling something knotting within his body. Fear. Frustration. Sickness.

With Hannibal’s hand on her shoulder, she said, “I wish I killed him for killing my mom, for killing all those girls, for making me –“ Will watched Hannibal’s hand squeeze her shoulder as she continued, “for making me help kill those girls.”

The pain in Will’s head twisted and tightened. Did he hear that right? Or was it a hallucination like the antlers? “What?”

“I- I thought Hannibal told you,” she said, looking up to Hannibal.

“You,” Will said, standing up. Hannibal moved quickly to keep the afghan from falling. “You were the lure.”

“He said you’d protect me,” Abigail said, her blue eyes darting from Hannibal to Will. She didn’t like that Hannibal moved to Will instead of her. Will looked sick, sweaty. His eyes had clouded over. This wasn’t the same man she talked to moments earlier. “He said that you’d keep it a secret.”

“Jack Crawford was right about you,” Will snarled, approaching Abigail. Hannibal had a firm arm around his waist, calmly keeping him back. “You killed Nick Boyle. You killed those girls.”

Will took the scalpel from Hannibal’s hand and used it to slice her throat. He watched the blood spill from the wound, he watched her gasp.

No.

No, he didn’t. She was standing away from him now, and Hannibal held him tightly against his chest. The scalpel was still in the doctor’s hand. Abigail was afraid.

Part of his mind said she should be afraid.

“I have to go,” Will said.

“Are you going to tell Jack?” Abigail asked.

“I can’t be here,” Will said.

It was all familiar. He thought of Hannibal’s corpse in the chair. Could he leave Hannibal alone with her? She trusted him. He could hold his own in a fight. And his own head hurt too much to trust himself. He might hurt someone. The vision of slicing Abigail’s throat hit him, and the nightmares came back to him. He would be like her father. Stand behind her. Whisper in her ear. Slice her throat. It would be easy.

He pushed Hannibal off of him, secured the afghan around his waist, and grabbed his jacket off the floor before leaving the room. He heard Hannibal open the door to follow, but the doctor didn’t follow. He didn’t say anything. Will felt in his pockets for his car keys.

Hannibal closed his office door and turned back to Abigail. “He’ll go to Jack, won’t he?” she asked. “If I run they’ll catch me, won’t they? You can’t protect me anymore.”

Hannibal rolled the scalpel between his fingers. Things were moving too fast. He could frame Will, but with the new development in their friendship, he didn’t want to have to talk to him through bars and under the eyes of Crawford. But Abigail’s life was already ending, and she already knew too much about him. He could easily pass the frame to her.

Abigail backed away from Hannibal with fear in her eyes. He had been quiet for too long. “Will wasn’t going to hurt me, was he? He can control himself.”

“He knows when to walk away,” Hannibal replied.

Abigail swallowed. “Will always said whoever called the house that morning was the serial killer. Why did you really call?”

Hannibal watched her and folded his arms behind his back. Abigail Hobbs backed away as the doctor approached her.


	3. Chapter 3

Will Graham sat next to Hannibal Lecter. Jack Crawford sat across from them, his hands knitted together on top of his desk. He looked frustrated, and Will didn’t blame him. Will’s head throbbed, and he could feel sweat rolling down his forehead. His glasses were still smudged from kissing Hannibal, and his shirt had several buttons missing from Hannibal ripping it off of him.

“Will had an episode in the hallway of my office,” Hannibal said, “and while I was treating him, Abigail Hobbs fled before either of us could stop her.”

Jack’s eyes shot to Will. “I’ve heard most of this account from Dr. Lecter,” he said. “Do you have anything you want to add, Will?”

“I obviously have a lot more holes in my memory,” Will said, “but I was on my way to tell you about her.”

In fact, when Will stepped out of Hannibal’s office, the next thing he remembered was Hannibal knocking on his car window. His eyes had been open, but Hannibal brought him back to reality. He rolled down the window.

“You shot her,” Hannibal said. “You went out to your car to get your gun, and a few minutes later you came back into the office and shot her four times.”

“I have to call Jack,” Will said. “I can’t run from this.”

He opened the car door, but Hannibal closed it. “We can run from this,” Hannibal said. “Together.”

“It’s my understanding that when two people run while holding hands, one ends up pulling the other until the other trips and brings them both down,” Will said. “Besides you kept what Abigail was from me – how am I supposed to trust you?”

“You saw how I protected Abigail – I’m going to protect you the same way.”

Will’s stomach turned. He opened the car door and threw up on the pavement. Hannibal thinned his lips and looked at his shoes.

“Sorry,” Will said.

“No need to apologize,” Hannibal said, staring hard at the damage to his shoes.

Will leaned back into the car and realized he was fully clothed. “I’m losing myself,” Will said.

“I’m here,” Hannibal said. “I won’t let you get lost.”

Will’s eyes rose to watch Hannibal carefully. “Why isn’t turning myself in the best course of action?”

“Because you let Garret Jacob Hobbs in,” Hannibal said. “What if they link you to the other murders? You finished one of his jobs – you killed his daughters – but what about the copycat? What if they think it’s you?”

“But I couldn’t-“

“Will, everyone sees you slipping,” Hannibal said, “but I know you have a strong enough grip to keep from falling. No one else does. If you admit to this crime, the floodgates will open.”

Will shook his head. He didn’t understand why the conclusion would be jumped to. Hannibal stepped closer and cupped Will’s cheeks in his hands. “Crawford already worries about what you could become,” Hannibal said. “He wonders about it with me frequently. If you put any suspicion in his mind, he will connect dots that aren’t there. If you have another personality taking over, you could have killed Dr. Sutcliffe and then killed Georgia-”

“I wouldn’t kill Georgia Madchen.”

“You wouldn’t,” Hannibal said, “but if you have another personality-“

“Whose side are you on?”

“Yours,” Hannibal said. “I am just using the information I have to jump to the same conclusions they will. You lose time. People could easily interpret that as another personality taking over.”

“Hannibal, I don’t want to live with this on my conscience.”

“Would you rather live in an asylum or a prison? Would you rather live without me?”

Will nodded slowly in Hannibal’s hands. Hannibal released him.

Hannibal said, “Do you even recall seeing the event?”

“I saw myself killing her,” Will said. “Not that way – not with a gun, but I saw myself doing it. I felt like I killed her.”

The doctor sighed and looked at Will. He hadn’t expected he’d lose both Will and Abigail in one swing. “I said I would let you make your own choice, and I will,” Hannibal said, “but please remember that this decision does not only affect you.”

Will briefly met Hannibal’s eyes before glancing away again. He rubbed his face with both hands and let out a noise in frustration.

Hannibal said, “You didn’t want to stop working for Crawford because of all the people you thought you would save-“

“I killed Abigail Hobbs.”

“And she helped kill all those girls and Nicholas Boyle with her own hand.”

“You helped cover it up,” Will said.

“I cared about her,” Hannibal said.

Will laughed weakly. “So when someone kills me, you’ll be giving this same speech to them?”

“Will, I am not going to let anyone kill you. I am not going to let anyone harm you.” He paused before adding, “I am not going to let anyone take you away from me. And think Will – think of where they’ll take you.”

Will shook his head. His head throbbed. His eyes felt like they would pop out at any moment. A small little cell sounded perfect. Someone to bring him food. Exercise. No responsibilities.

But his brain would be put under a microscope and picked at. Papers would be written on him. He would become like Dr. Gideon and forget who he was. Maybe he would break out and go on a killing spree too. He wouldn’t help anyone, not anymore.

“All right,” Will said with a hoarse voice. “You win. What should I do?”

“Just stay in the car,” Hannibal said. “I’ll do everything.”

Will waited for an hour with his stomach twisting and bubbling. He threw up once more. He stumbled out of the car to check on Hannibal, but when he stepped into Hannibal’s office, he only saw the white afghan spattered with blood. He reached out to touch it and then thought better of it. He left the room and went back out into the car.

He thought about sleeping, but he was afraid of what he’d see when he closed his eyes. A few minutes later, Hannibal met back up him and they went to see Jack Crawford together.

And now Will watched Hannibal sitting beside him, calm and prim. He wore the same suit he made love to Will in, and his hair was perfectly combed to the side. Will found himself looking forward to mussing it up so it hung over his forehead.

His eyes glazed over as he realized how quickly his life unravelled, and how each time Hannibal grabbed the pieces to put him back together. But the damaged had been done. He couldn’t exactly blame Hannibal for something he himself did.

“So you have nothing to add, Will?” Crawford asked. “She just admitted to being the lure, caused your episode, and then she fled.”

Will nodded. “Sounds right.”

With his eyes burrowing into Will’s, Jack asked, “Will, do you need to take a step back?”

“I don’t know,” Will said. “Do you want me to look at the new Chesapeake Ripper victim?”

“I’m not going to push you over the edge.”

“I’ll just peek,” Will said, standing up. “You’re still not sure it’s him, right?”

“Zeller seems to think so, but Katz and Price are still on the fence.”

Will nodded. “I’ll take a look.”

Hannibal turned to watch Will leave, realizing that Will was determined to atone for his mistake with Abigail, to prove that he’s worth keeping out of an asylum.

“What’s your opinion, Dr. Lecter?” Crawford said. “Should I cut him loose and tell him to go home? It would be a shame to lose him just as the Ripper shows his face again.”

Hannibal watched Crawford observe him. Crawford was looking for permission to keep Will on. His loathing for the Ripper snuffed out whatever concerns he had about Will. Hannibal doubted Jack would take his advice if it didn’t match his needs. “I am not certain at this point,” Hannibal replied. “When Will came to see me last night, he came because he couldn’t clearly see the victim you brought him in to look at – he only saw himself, which I suppose you understand.”

Crawford nodded. “It’s entirely possible the Ripper is targeting him, though I’m not sure why. He was never publicly declared on the Ripper’s case, and the last time the Ripper targeted me. Katz believes this is one of the reasons why it’s not the real Ripper.”

Jack leaned back in his chair, his fingers knitting together in thought. Hannibal doubted Jack even thought about Will in that moment. The Ripper consumed him. He enjoyed watching Jack wade into the quicksand. Hannibal said, “If Will cannot see the victims clearly, he is not going to be able to help you. Even if you force him to look, what he sees will only muddle the facts.”

“He’s willing to look,” Jack said, simply.

“But we don’t know if he sees anything,” Hannibal replied.

“So what do you recommend?” Jack asked. “Should I force him to go home even though he wants to help?”

“I will find out what Will sees,” Hannibal said. “And if he sees clearly, then I will not stop you from keeping him on the case.”

“And you’ll continue to keep tabs on him to make sure he doesn’t falter?”

“Yes,” Hannibal said. “I care about Will. I’m not going to let him fall over the edge, no matter how close you push him to it.”

“Do you think I’m pushing him closer?”

“Yes,” Hannibal said, “but I’m more concerned because Abigail happened to give him a very hard shove, and I do not believe Will has regained his balance from that particular shove.”

“We’ll have teams out looking for Abigail,” Jack said. “Hopefully Will won’t feel worse once we have her back in custody for questioning.”

“Will doubts himself.”

Jack watched Hannibal, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, Jack replied, “You mean, because he didn’t see what Abigail was, he’s worried he’s not seeing as well as he could be into the criminal mind?”

“Yes,” Hannibal said. “And I think he will work harder to prove to himself that he can still do this, and I fear he may push himself too hard.”

“But you still recommend waiting.”

“I do,” Hannibal said. “If we tell him to stop now, we could be kicking him while he’s down.”

It helped, too, that with Will still working for Jack, Hannibal would get details about this so-called Chesapeake Ripper. He would have to rely purely on The Tattler without Will, and while the pictures on The Tattler were quite lovely, whatever Will illustrated with his nervous, hurried words tasted much more delicious to him. And to think he could now kiss the lips that spouted those words.

While Hannibal and Jack Crawford continued to talk, Will mainly listened down in the lab. Jimmy Price, Beverly Katz, and Brian Zeller gave Will the run-down while Will cleaned his glasses on his shirt. He saw the corpse for what it was now, though he failed to see the similarities to himself.

“The heart is the only surgical trophy taken,” Katz explained. “The other organs have been muddled around with, but they’re there and generally intact.”

“So he was showing us he could have taken them,” Will said, “but if he’s the Ripper, we already knew he could have taken them.”

“Unless he was inspecting them for some reason,” Zeller said, “but they all look healthy. There’s no reason to ignore them.”

“There could have been something wrong with the heart,” Katz suggested.

Price cut in. “His name is Tristan Jones. He was last seen leaving a gay club, though he wasn’t leaving with anyone, nor does the bartender remember anything particularly suspicious or noteworthy about his habits in the club. Danced with a couple of regulars and a couple of strangers the bartender couldn’t give us much information about. Jack’s working on getting interviews with the regulars.”

“Any camera footage?” Will asked.

“Parking lot footage shows nothing,” Katz said. “He parked in a blind spot.”

“Club footage is primarily of the bar and otherwise useless due to excessive smoke machines,” Zeller said, frowning. “Jack’s looking into talking to some of the bouncers as well.”

“But the Ripper doesn’t normally go somewhere populated and public to snatch someone,” Will said. “Maybe Jones stopped somewhere else before he met the Ripper.”

“We’re checking some traffic cameras for the car’s route,” Price said, “but we know the way to his apartment doesn’t have many of them.”

Will thinned his lips and scratched the back of his head in thought. After a beat of silence, Katz said, “All of the mutilations were done post-mortem. He died from strangulation. The Ripper could have been in his house, waiting for him to get home. No one noticed any suspicious vehicles, but it’s an apartment building. People come and go all the time.”

“The fact that it’s post-mortem suggests it isn’t the Ripper,” Will said. “Unless he didn’t have any other choice.”

“Well time wasn’t a factor,” Price said. “Everything’s does intricately and carefully. He wouldn’t have done this in a rush.”

Zeller said, “He could have put up too much of a fight. So the Ripper strangled him and then did his thing.”

Will rubbed his forehead, and his head ached behind the bridge of his nose. Something didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t think clearly with his head pounding. He squeezed his eyes shut to rub and pinch the bridge of his nose, and behind his closed eyelids he slit Abigail Hobbs’ throat. He opened his eyes quickly again.

He had to focus on this case.

“What about cameras in the apartment building’s lot?” Will asked.

“We’re getting them, but they don’t cover the whole area,” Katz said.

Will didn’t reply and stared at the body. He noticed Katz, Price, and Zeller exchange looks quickly. “What else?” Will asked.

“You don’t notice anything particularly suspicious about the way the corpse looks?” Price asked.

Will gave Price a hard stare. “He’s thoroughly mutilated. There might be some significance with the knife crown but–“

“He looks like you,” Zeller said, sharply. “Same hair colour, same hair style, same eye colour, similar build, similar facial hair. Can’t be a coincidence. You didn’t see it?”

Will was just relieved he didn’t look like Hannibal. He stood up to look at the body, and finally the similarities stood out to him. It wasn’t like looking in a mirror, but there was still something unsettling about it – as if he was looking into a pool of water just after someone tossed a stone in.

“Why would he target you instead of targeting Jack again?” Katz asked.

“He already broke Jack,” Will said, looking hard at Jones’ face. The empty eye sockets stared back at him. “And he must not know me well enough to know I’m already broken.”

He wondered, for a moment, if it could have been Abigail Hobbs. She died after this body appeared, and she was already involved with murders looking similar to one person – herself. Perhaps she decided to start murdering men that looked like him and use the Chesapeake Ripper’s M.O. to cover her tracks.

But Abigail could hardly cut out a heart. Could she?

It hit Will suddenly. “He stole my heart.”

Will and Beverly exchanged glances, with heat rising to Will’s cheeks as he looked to the ground. Suspicion rose in his stomach alongside bile, and Will rushed out of the lab to make his way into the bathroom. With the door still open, Will lifted the toilet seat lid and threw up. Clear bile poured out from his mouth, and he heaved to get it out. He didn’t have much left in him to throw up. His throat and nostrils burned as he stayed kneeling over the toilet.

Hannibal had the capacity to do this. He was quick-witted and patient. He spent time observing people and their conditions. He could read people well. He wasn’t easily shocked. And he had access to all the crimes committed – he’d know how and where to hide.

He thought of the way Hannibal walked into the kitchen after he shot Garret Jacob Hobbs. Calm. Collected. He took off Will’s hand and put it around Abigail’s neck to save her.

Save her.

He could have let her bleed out.

The water and bile in the toilet turned blood red and swirled on its own.

“Will?”

Will turned around to see Hannibal in the doorway. “Beverly told me you were here,” he said. “She spoke to me like it was my fault you were here. It was rather rude of her.”

Hannibal’s hand found its way onto Will’s arm. Gentle. Soft. His other hand pressed up against Will’s forehead.

“Your fever is back.”

The bile and water in the toilet bowl looked normal. Hannibal flushed it.

“Will, are you all right?”

His voice was as soft and gentle as his touch. His face showed concern, but not as if he had practiced the expression in the mirror. It looked real. Will surprised Hannibal by watching him intently. His blue eyes didn’t dart away, and a firm stare wasn’t something he was used to. It worried him. “Let’s get you home,” Hannibal said.

Wrapping his arms around Will’s waist, Hannibal lifted him to his feet. Will stood, but leaned heavily on the doctor. He breathed in Hannibal’s scent, wrapping an arm loosely around his waist. Will smiled as he remembered the feeling of the suit against his body. And Hannibal wore it with confidence, like their secret wasn’t anything to hide.

“I have to talk to Beverly,” Will said.

“Do you intend to tell her how rude her tone was?” Hannibal asked, walking with Will. “Because if not I think we should get you home.”

“Yes actually,” Will said. “That’s what I need to talk to her about. I can walk, let me go.”

Hannibal released him, and Will steadied himself on the wall for a moment before regaining his strength. Hannibal fished a package of gum out of Will’s pocket and handed a piece to him. Will took it before putting the package into his pocket. “Thanks.”

“The pleasure is mine – trust me,” Hannibal replied with a small smile.

Will smiled without thinking. He wanted to hug Hannibal. He wanted to kiss Hannibal, though he knew the doctor would protest. Hannibal either guessed his thoughts or felt the same way as he cupped Will’s cheeks in his hands and kissed his forehead. He appreciated feverish Will – the one who didn’t fear if other people saw them together.

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” Will said. “Will you wait here?”

“I’ll be here,” Hannibal said. “Always.”

Will walked back to the lab with his head feeling clouded and heavy. He asked Beverly if he could speak to her privately before he went home, and she made up some excuse before the two went into one of the smaller empty lab rooms. After Beverly shut the door, she said, “Do you think Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper?”

“No,” Will said. “For a minute, yes, but it doesn’t make sense.”

“Because cutting out Tristan Jones’ heart would be too obvious.”

Will smiled in relief. “Exactly. He would be asking to be caught.”

Beverly nodded. “I wondered about it too when you first mentioned it, but after Dr. Lecter left I realized how absurd it seemed for the Ripper to be so careful for so long and then to suddenly throw this on your lap. Unless he’s challenging you to turn him in, but if the Ripper were Dr. Lecter, I think he would prefer a face-to-face confrontation.”

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“I have,” Beverly said. “So do you think the Ripper is targeting you or do you think he’s targeting Dr. Lecter?”

Will took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose again. He couldn’t concentrate. He kept thinking of settling into Hannibal’s arms. “I don’t know. It could just be a coincidence. Maybe he’s courting me – daring me to catch him. He knows Jack’s blind with the desire to catch him, but I’m not.” He shook his head before putting his glasses back on. “Or it could be referencing some other cliché – my heart’s not in the right place, he’s eating my heart out, I need to follow my heart, he’s a man after my own heart-”

“Be still my beating heart,” Beverly added. “Home is where the heart is. Maybe I should look into clichés and see if there’s a secret message in there. You’re going home, right? You look terrible, Will.”

“I feel terrible,” he replied. “But yes, I’m going home.”

“With Hannibal?” she asked, a small smile in the corner of her lips.

“If you must know, yes,” Will said, sharply.

Before he opened the door, Beverly said, “Will, what if this isn’t the Ripper?”

“Then we catch him anyway.”

“I mean, if this isn’t the Ripper, should we – is it possible Dr. Lecter could-“

“No,” Will said with a certainty in his voice that he didn’t actually feel. “He saved Abigail Hobbs. He could have let her bleed out, and I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. I wouldn’t have realized there was something else he could have done to save her.”

“Will, I just want you to know if I start seeing dots, I’m going to connect them,” she said. “I care about you, but I’m not going to turn a blind eye.”

Will smiled. “I wouldn’t like you if you did.”

When the two stepped out of the lab, Zeller wagged his thick eyebrows and said, “Did you two enjoy your private time?”

Price hit Zellers’ shoulder and said, “That’s gross. Will just threw up. I highly doubt Will would subject anyone to that sort of treatment.”

“He’s chewing gum.”

“For his breath to be polite.”

“I am never kissing anyone in this lab,” Beverly said, firmly. “But I want you to know that if I did choose to kiss anyone in this lab, whatever corpse we had in here would be my first choice.”

“Why, Beverly dear, I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing,” Price said, sighing over the corpse of Tristan Jones. “I suppose it doesn’t matter to you that this one was gay. Sexuality is the least of his concerns now.”

Will left as Beverly punched Price in the arm. When he met up with Hannibal, the two didn’t exchange words, and Will dropped into a daze as Hannibal drove him to his home. He considered how Hannibal could be the Ripper. Helping Abigail hide a body could be suspicious, but considering the circumstances, he understood why someone like Hannibal would help. And what about helping Will hide Abigail’s body? In fact, Hannibal took care of the entire situation. He let Will remain unconscious and blind to it. He never even saw Abigail’s body.

But neither of these incidents involved Hannibal directly killing a person. If anything, it just showed how much he cared about people – two people, specifically. He could see how Hannibal could be tied to the killings, but he had yet to see why.

When the pair reached Will’s house, Will let out the dogs and sat down on the porch. Hannibal stood at the bottom of the stairs, his arms folded against his chest. He watched the dogs sniff around a tree and in the snow, panting and yapping at each other. Will thought the doctor looked a little lost, standing there amidst Will’s routine.

“Why?”

Hannibal turned to look at Will.

“I can’t figure out why you would protect me,” Will said. “And don’t say because you care about me. Everyone cares about me because I am some broken toy that needs to be coddled. And you cared about Abigail. You cared about her a hell of a lot if you protected her like you did. Why aren’t you mad about that?”

“Because you’re innocent.”

Will looked up at him, waiting for a further explanation. Hannibal’s smile was kind. He pressed his hand against Will’s forehead before running his fingers through his hair. Will found it a little condescending, but he appreciated the physical affection. He didn’t doubt for a moment, not even after hearing Hannibal’s words, that he had killed Abigail Hobbs.

Hannibal sat down beside Will, draping his arm across Will’s shoulders and pressing his leg up against his friend’s. “You didn’t kill Abigail Hobbs,” Hannibal said. “Whatever feverish monster you have inside of you did – and only after she provoked it. If you’ll forgive the cliché, she poked the sleeping bear. I am not happy about the way things turned out, but I don’t think you should be tried for the crimes of something you cannot control, and I know you will not enjoy going somewhere for the criminally insane. The correct course of action for you, Will Graham who I trust to make the right choices and who I believe does everything with the best intentions, is to remain free and be privately treated by someone he trusts to make the right decisions so that something like this never occurs again.

“And please don’t make a joke about seeing another doctor,” Hannibal added, “it will bruise my fragile ego.”

Will smiled weakly and leaned against Hannibal. He intended to make a joke about Hannibal’s ego being large, but couldn’t think of one. His head was too clouded; his body felt too heavy. Hannibal’s words comforted him somewhat. He didn’t like the choice he made – he didn’t like it when he made it – but it was too late now. Turning himself in now only made himself look guiltier, and now he would have to work harder to catch the Chesapeake Ripper so Beverly didn’t seriously consider Hannibal as a suspect. If she did, it could bring both of them down.

Hannibal’s nose pressed against his temple as the doctor kissed him, and Hannibal’s arm dropped to around his waist, pulling Will closer to him. Hannibal’s warmth spread to him, and Will felt safe again. Even if he didn’t think he made the right choice, he trusted Hannibal’s judgment. And he didn’t want to admit, not even to himself, that he feared the thought of being trapped within an institution so much that he was relieved Hannibal gave him a reason to avoid it. Checking himself in wouldn’t be too terrible, but being trapped – forced into one, that would be too much. If he was going in, he would have to control the situation.

After several minutes of silence, Will called the dogs back and herded them inside. “You’re staying too,” Will said to Hannibal.

“I’m keeping an eye on your fever,” Hannibal said.

Hannibal watched as Will flicked on the space heater, removed his glasses, and poured himself a glass of water. He took another two aspirin before removing his clothes as he walked to the bathroom. Hannibal sat on Will’s sofa and removed his suit jacket. One of the dogs – Hannibal couldn’t remember their names – placed his head in his lap and Hannibal stroked behind his ears. He had little interest in the dogs, but he needed them to like him. The dogs often sniffed his hands affectionately, hoping to find a trace of sausage there. The gesture reminded him that he knew what the bones in their snout would feel like if he crushed them. It was a nice reminder.

He heard Will brush his teeth and gargle. His friend re-emerged in long, plaid pyjama pants and a white t-shirt. Hannibal was a little offended it wasn’t his own shirt. “Are you coming to bed?” Will asked.

Hannibal didn’t like the idea of going to sleep without the comforts of his own home. He’d be sleeping in a sweaty undershirt and boxers instead of his soft pyjamas, and he tried not to think about what he would need to scrounge up for breakfast in the morning. But he also couldn’t risk leaving Will alone with a fever and his thoughts.

He wasn’t sure what he expected. Was he just going to sit up the entire night with a dog head in his lap?

“Yes, I’ll join you,” Hannibal said.

Hannibal took off his clothes, folded them neatly, and then set them on Will’s dresser. He made a mental note that he would need to stop at his place in the morning so he could put on a fresh pair of clothes. However, on the chance that Will wrapped him up in another crisis, he wanted to make sure his clothes didn’t look wrinkled.

He slid under the covers next to Will, pulling his friend’s body against his own. He nuzzled into Will’s hair and noted that he should have showered before bed. Will pushed back against Hannibal, almost knocking him out of the bed.

“Will, why is your bed so small?”

“It’s not a single.”

“It’s not a king.”

“I don’t need a king.”

“I do.”

“You don’t,” Will said. “I would need a dogsled team to find you on the other side of your king-sized bed.”

“Well this bed couldn’t hold a dog, let alone an entire team.”

“You’re more than welcome to sleep on the couch,” Will said, sharply.

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

Will hesitated. “No.”

“Good.”

Hannibal smiled and tried to worm his way further onto the bed with Will still in his grasp. Once Hannibal settled, his friend relaxed in his arms. Hannibal closed his eyes, listening to Will’s steady breaths and feeling his chest fall and rise against his fingertips. As frustrated as he was that Abigail needed to die, it was nice having Will tied to him in this way. No matter what, Will would always be in his grasp – a grasp he could loosen or tighten as he wished. Perfection.

Or it would be if Will had a half-decent bed.

Hannibal found it difficult to sleep, dozing until Will woke him up with a rough twitch. And then the lumpy mattress always made it difficult for him to fall back asleep. He watched Will’s eyes move quickly behind his eyelids and he watched the way they slowed down as he whispered “I’m here” into his ear.

When Hannibal finally drifted into a heavy sleep, Will’s dreams shifted. Hannibal was on top of him, kissing him roughly as his cock pumped into Will’s ass. Will gripped Hannibal’s shoulders, and his legs coiled around his back to raise himself off the bed. Hannibal’s nails dug into his hips as the doctor panted, watching Will intently. Closing his eyes, Will focussed on the feeling of Hannibal’s cock sliding inside of him. His toes curled, but he wasn’t ready to start jerking himself off just yet.

When he opened his eyes, he noticed something off about Hannibal’s face. When he moved, it rippled, as if it was just a piece of fabric hung in face. Will touched it, and it felt frail and stiff between his fingers. When he tried to lift it, it dissipated like ash, floating out into the air.

The face left behind made Will want to run. He tried to pull away, but the creature tightened its grip on him, slamming him roughly back against its cock. The charcoal face stared into him blankly, as if it felt nothing. Its lifeless, black fish eyes stayed locked onto his blue ones, and when Will tried to push the face away, he saw the antlers sprouting from his head. He gripped the antlers to try to regain control, but the creature was either too strong or Will was just too weak. He felt too weak.

The creature’s body changed as well. Its sickly thin body rubbed against Will’s body, with its ribs digging into Will’s chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and the terror began to leave him. The creature felt like Hannibal. His lean, soft chest pressed back against his own. He could smell him and he listened to his quick, steady breaths. The rhythm of his cock sliding inside of him felt cautious and gentle. The antlers between his fingers felt like his soft hair.

With a smile Will tightened his legs around Hannibal’s back, bucking back against Hannibal’s thrusts. He panted as Hannibal pumped harder into him, trying to match Will’s eager pace. Hannibal nuzzled him before kissing down his jawline. Will let out a purr and curled his toes. He opened his eyes just in time to see the creature bite into his throat, pulling out deep red muscle and sinew.

He tried to scream, but no sound came out. He tried to fight the creature off of him, but he felt froze and – worse – he felt pleasure as the creature licked his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut again, but he found them open.

The creature was gone. His clothes clung to him with sweat, and Hannibal restlessly slept beside him, his face twitching. Will turned around to face the doctor. He looked distressed. A frown sat on his stoic faces, and his brows twisted near his closed eyes in frustration. Will thought of the veil. Was he still sleeping? Hannibal couldn’t sleep through one of his night sweats, could he?

He touched Hannibal’s face gently, watching as the man pulled away from him. With a foggy determination, Will grasped the back of Hannibal’s head to keep it steady as he felt his smooth skin, searching for edges or breaks in it.

Hannibal gripped Will’s hands roughly by the wrists as he awoke, and, with fear shooting through him, Will tried to get out of the bed. Hannibal coiled his grip around Will’s waist, pulling his friend back against him despite how much he fought against it. “You’re awake,” Hannibal said. “Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real.”

Will stopped fighting. Hannibal loosened his grip and stroked Will’s sweaty hair. He noted Will had an erection, but decided he wouldn’t respond well to questions about it. Will shook against him, and his sweat seeped into the doctor’s shirt. “I’m here,” Hannibal murmured. “You’re safe.”

“I only saw you,” Will said.

“I don’t understand.”

“You said whatever I’m seeing isn’t real. I only saw you.”

“It felt like you were prying off my face.”

Will didn’t reply. Hannibal propped his head up with one hand, keeping the other loosely draped across Will. His fingers traced against Will’s stomach. Hannibal said, “I didn’t think you were going to hurt me. You just woke me up.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

Hannibal sighed. His eyelids were heavy, and he didn’t appreciate Will’s short, vague responses. A headache started to set in behind his eyes. “You need to speak plainly if you want me to help you, Will.”

Will turned around, and Hannibal found his eyes quickly met with the blue ones of his friend. They stared hard into him. “Are you the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Hannibal smiled. “Will, you’re being absurd.”

“You’re not saying no.”

“Listen to me. You just killed Abigail Hobbs unprovoked. She didn’t threaten you-“

“You said earlier she provoked me.”

“Will, listen to what I’m trying to say,” Hannibal said, firmly. “She did not give you a legal reason to attack her. We couldn’t argue self-defence. You never thought you’d kill someone that way, am I correct?”

After a pause, Will nodded, slowly. His eyes finally avoided Hannibal’s.

The doctor continued, “You’re going to see killers everywhere now. You want to find someone else who is capable of horrors you never imagined before. You want to know you’re not alone – that someone else reasonable and rational like you has their own breaking point.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call myself rational right now.”

“But I am rational,” Hannibal said.

Several beats of silence passed between them. Hannibal took off Will’s sweaty shirt, watching his friend comply with his movements. He tossed the shirt on the floor and rubbed Will’s bare skin to keep him warm. Will didn’t touch him in response. Hannibal rolled over and moved Will’s body on top of his own. Will’s chin dug into this chest. He wrapped the blanket tightly around them as he hugged Will.

Will said, “Beverly Katz saw it too – for a moment.”

“You are going to have to tread carefully here, Will,” Hannibal said.

Will made eye contact again. His fingers lightly touched Hannibal’s shoulders.

Hannibal continued, “This new murder, it’s not by the Ripper, is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“If it’s not by The Ripper, you’re not going to want them looking too closely at you. You know intricate details of the murders, and you know how to avoid the FBI. Someone might think you’ve snapped and are killing men who look like yourself. If anyone knew about us they might be suspicious that you have a gay experience and then right after that experience an openly gay man arrives dead on their doorstep.”

Will’s eyes avoided his own. He had told someone about them, but Hannibal was flattered more than anything. He liked the idea of Will whispering about him to a third party. Would he say how good in bed he was? Of course he would.

“Do you think I did it and just don’t remember?” Will asked.

“No,” Hannibal said. “But there was a period when you weren’t speaking to me, if you recall it. I won’t be able to give you an alibi if the question is raised.”

Will sighed and tilted his head sideways, tucking it beneath Hannibal’s chin. Hannibal hugged him tightly again. One of the dogs yawned in the silence. Will tried to process the new information. He hadn’t lost time between when he arrived on Hannibal’s doorstep and when he killed Abigail. He couldn’t have killed Tristan Jones as well.

But he knew why he arrived on Hannibal’s doorstep now. If he had a dream similar to the one he just escaped from, he would have confronted Hannibal about being the Chesapeake Ripper earlier. And that thought could easily have been so overwhelming that his mind needed to escape it. He listened to Hannibal breathe and smiled. The dream seemed distant somehow. The Hannibal he relaxed on wouldn’t have a creature like that inside of him. The gesture meant a lot to him – usually Will would just put a towel down instead of sleeping on the dry side of the bed. He didn’t even allow himself the comfort Hannibal offered him.

“Can I sleep here?”

“Go ahead.”

“You won’t get much sleep.”

“Then you better get more,” Hannibal said, “because you’ll be my chauffer for the day.”

Will smiled. “I think I can manage.”

As Will settled into sleep, the idea that Hannibal was the Chesapeake Ripper grew increasingly foolish – the idea sparked by an absurd dream. A spark that Hannibal snuffed out with his soft words and gentle gestures.

With a content expression, Hannibal Lecter breathed in Will’s hair and coiled his arms tighter around his friend.


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal awoke to the sound of a shower running. His sleep had been a brief period of darkness, as if he had only blinked, and exhaustion tugged his eyelids back down. Hugging a pillow to his chest, it took Hannibal a moment to remember where he was. The scratchy sheets were the first reminder that the bed was not his own.

Checking the clock, Hannibal meandered out of bed and pushed a dog nose away from his crotch as his feet pressed against the cold floors. Will needed a new home if they were going to be in a serious relationship. Will wouldn’t give away the strays, Hannibal knew better than to wish for that, but he would not have their claws chewing up his hardwood floors. People tended to forget how strong dogs’ claws were until they punctured leather furniture, cut a chunk out of a hardwood floor, or pierced your skin while you’re trying to save them from drowning in the water – or something similar.

Water. Hannibal took off his undershirt and boxers before placing them neatly on Will’s bed. He disliked the idea of crawling back into them after he was clean, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to join Will in the shower. Sexual experience or not, he liked Will naked and shivering with beads of water dripping off his thick eyelashes.

He made his way into the bathroom. He tried to be quiet about it, but Will stared hard at the shower wall and didn’t seem to notice his surroundings at all. He slipped in behind Will, feeling his friend tense as he wrapped his arms around him. Pressing his lips against Will’s ear, Hannibal waited until Will relaxed in his grip. He then traced his fingers down Will’s chest, teasing his nipples between two fingers before brushing them up against his stomach.

“I dreamt of you making love to me,” Hannibal lied while drawing circles against Will’s stomach with his fingers. “You pushed me down on the bed and pressed yourself into me. It felt perfect.”

He kissed Will’s neck and lightly grasped his hips to pull his friend against him.

Will Graham was tired, frustrated, and scared. He was not impressed that Hannibal added horny to his list of uncontrollable feelings. Hannibal pulled him out of a hallucination where water poured down the walls of his shower, threatening to fill the room until he would drown. It didn’t make sense, of course. The water would flow out under the door, but he didn’t have the opportunity to be reasonable as his feet lifted off the ground and the water swallowed everything up to his neck.

And Hannibal continued to gently kiss his neck. Warm. Hannibal’s stubble rubbed against him in an itchy, pleasing way. His arms coiled back around his stomach. Hannibal’s erection pressed against his ass. Gently touching Hannibal’s arms around him, Will asked, “How long were you asleep?”

“In total?” Hannibal asked. “Or this last time?”

Will woke up several more times during the night. He either woke Hannibal up or found the doctor already awake and whispering to him that everything was fine. They usually counted how many hours or minutes they slept, deciding who would have the energy and awareness to drive Will’s car. Will knew he won. The only time Hannibal didn’t wake up was when Will crawled out of bed to shower, and that had been maybe five minutes earlier.

“This last time.”

“Thirty minutes, tops.”

“Are you even going to be able to work today?” Will asked.

“I only have a few appointments, and one is with Dr. Du Maurier, so I will be cancelling it with many apologies. I should have at least given her a day’s warning, but I hadn’t thought to call her yesterday.”

“I can drive you if you want to talk to her,” Will said. “I’m sure you have a lot on your mind.”

“I’m afraid she won’t approve of my recent exploits with you, and I don’t have the energy to dodge her disapproving questions – not to mention this look she gets when she doesn’t approve.”

Will turned to look at Hannibal when he tried to mimic it. Will didn’t know how accurate it was, but Hannibal still won a small smile from his friend for attempting it. Will mentally counted all of the reasons Dr. Du Maurier would disapprove of their relationship, and if Hannibal’s arms hadn’t been around him, Will would have accepted them as rational and would have abandoned the relationship – or tried to.

“How do you feel, Will?”

“Like I’m treading water without any sign of land around me.”

“And are my arms weighing you down or lifting you up?”

“Right now they are just giving me an erection,” Will said. “And yours in my back isn’t helping mine fade at all.”

“Should we deal with this pressing issue then?” Hannibal asked, grinding his hips against Will’s.

“Yes.”

“What would you be interested in pursuing?” Hannibal asked. “I rather enjoyed the idea of going back to bed so you can let out some pent up aggression on me.”

Hannibal relished in the thought of Will being rough and controlling with him. He wanted to see and feel that side of him while still knowing that Will was his own.

“It might work the dogs up,” Will said. “They might think something is wrong and I’ll get distracted if they’re barking.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

Will simply gave Hannibal a smile, and the doctor kissed the corner of his lips.

Hannibal continued, “Then I’ll turn around in the shower. We’ll just have to be careful not to slip, and try not to spread my legs with your feet against mine or I will slip.”

“Now who’s speaking from experience.”

“Does my experience intimidate you?” Hannibal asked. “Or does it excite you?”

Will turned around in Hannibal’s arms and gripped the doctor’s hips. “It challenges me,” Will said. He leaned upwards to continue against Hannibal’s lips, “I want to overwhelm every other memory so you think only of what I did for you.”

Will kissed him, hard, forced Hannibal up against the shower wall and extended the kiss. He squeezed Hannibal’s ass as he felt the doctor’s fingers in his hair. When he broke the kiss, Hannibal leaned his forehead against Will’s, watching his friend’s eyes avoid his own. “You are certainly making a strong start, Will.”

Smiling, Will kissed him again and gripped Hannibal’s cock, jerking him off at the base of his shaft. Against Will’s lips, Hannibal said, “Where do you keep your lubricant?”

“What?” Will asked. “I don’t have any.”

“Not even for masturbation?”

“I haven’t exactly been in the mood lately,” Will said. “I suppose water won’t be enough.”

Hannibal thinned his lips, wondering how Will treated the women he slept with. “It won’t,” Hannibal replied.

“I heard cowboys used to use olive oil, back in the day.”

“And where do you keep your olive oil, Will?”

“I don’t have any.”

Hannibal nodded, trying to suppress any sexual frustration he had. The lack of sleep shortened his temper, and the lack of olive oil made him dread the state of Will’s kitchen. Would there even be anything decent for breakfast? He would need to plan ahead next time. Food. Sheets. Lubricant. Pyjamas and robe. Change of clothes. New bed. New mattress. New floorboards. Proper heating. Renovated kitchen. More barriers for dogs.

“I’ll take care of you now,” Will said, “and then during our lunch breaks, I’ll pop into your office and we can explore your fantasy.”

Hannibal watched a shadow cross Will’s face, and his friend started to frown. “Don’t think about it,” Hannibal said. “We’ll create new memories there.”

“No, it’ll be as bad as the dogs,” Will said, thinking about slicing Abigail Hobbs’ throat in Hannibal’s office. “We could try it later, or I could ride you again, but I can’t – not now, not yet.”

Hannibal hugged Will tightly to him. “It’s fine,” Hannibal said. “If you’re still in the mood later, we’ll make love somewhere else. Is there room in the back of your car?”

“Maybe,” Will replied, absently.

His mind began to wander, and Hannibal kissed the side of his face. “Stay with me, Will.”

Will hugged him back. Hannibal felt his pruney fingers and made a mental note to keep shower conversations short. Will’s erection had faded, but Hannibal’s held strong against his stomach. Lowering himself onto his knees, Will kissed the head of Hannibal’s cock.

“Will, you don’t need to do that. It will fade, or I will take care of it.”

Will looked up at Hannibal and said with a certain determination, “I want to.”

It sent pleasurable chills through Hannibal, and he stroked Will’s hair as his friend licked the underside of his shaft, flicking his tongue against it before squeezing his testicles. His hand encircled the base of Hannibal’s shaft, jerking him off as he began to suck the head of his cock. Hannibal gently moved his hips against the rhythm, licking his lips as he watched Will suck him.

Part of him wanted to grip Will’s head and fuck his mouth, but a larger part of him relished in the experience of Will making the effort for him. Will took more of his erection into his mouth, jerking him off harder as he moved his lips against him faster. Hannibal squirmed, and Will’s free hand grabbed his ass, moving Hannibal’s hips against the rhythm for him. Gripping Will’s hair, Hannibal pressed his other hand against the shower wall to keep himself steady. His legs weakened, and he listened to himself pant.

Lack of sleep would cut him short and weaken his restraint. Will pressed his finger between Hannibal’s ass cheeks, teasing him without penetrating him. Hannibal squirmed. “Will, I won’t last.”

With this admittance, Will sucked him harder and jerked him off faster. Hannibal tightened his grip in his hair, bucking his hips into Will’s mouth. Will’s lips met his fist, making Hannibal feel like Will had taken his entire length into his mouth. Will’s tongue teased the underside of his shaft as he sucked him eagerly, his blue eyes glancing upwards to catch Hannibal’s expression.

Hannibal came with a sharp groan, and Will jerked him off as he swallowed his orgasm in its entirety while Hannibal shuddered against him. He loved that Will swallowed him. He was perfect. When Will released his cock, Hannibal pulled Will upwards by his hair – not thinking to be gentle – and kissed him roughly, slamming him against the shower wall and tasting his own climax on Will’s lips to confirm it really just happened.

He put his arm around Will’s waist to steady him, and Will’s hands twisted into his chest hair, pulling it before rubbing his chest. When Hannibal pulled away and released Will’s hair, Will rubbed his head. “Can you be careful with my hair next time, please?”

“Sorry,” Hannibal said, trying to fight back the sleep behind his eyes.

He wanted to drag Will back to bed with him and smother him against the mattress with his body. He would feel his stomach and imagine all the things he would make with it in the event that he had to kill him. Hopefully that wouldn’t be soon. Will was proving himself a lovely bedroom companion – lovelier than he expected.

“I appreciate the passion,” Will said with a smile. “Really.”

“I appreciate yours,” Hannibal said with a weaker one. “I need to sit down.”

Hannibal stepped out of the shower, hardly noticing the cold air as he left the bathroom and moved towards Will’s bed. He dropped onto it, and even though the mattress was lumpy, the sheets were scratchy, and the mattress was offensively small, he thought he could sleep there. He ignored his sleep shirt and boxers and wrapped the covers around him. He didn’t see Will, clad in a towel, take his clothes off the bed for him.

Darkness.

Hannibal looked around again. The clock showed twenty minutes had passed. He thought he was more tired than before. He stood up, stretched with his limbs feeling like sandbags, and then put his undershirt and boxers back on with a cringe.

When he walked into the kitchen, he saw Will sitting at a table by the window. He wore his regular attire – a tie, an offensively plaid shirt (the buttons matched the holes this time) and some ugly khakis. His hair was combed but unruly, and he still hadn’t shaved. His glasses, now clean, sat on his face. He stared at the empty seat across from him, and he held his fork in front of him, as if he was about to take a bite. Scrambled eggs sat on it. A small piece fell off of it.

Will was drifting. Did he think about Abigail? How would he break? Hannibal wondered why Will didn’t doubt that he killed her. He accepted it instantly. He said he imagined he killed her. He wondered how it went. He thought about Will covered in Garret Jacob Hobbs’ blood. Abigail’s would be the same colour.

“Hello,” Hannibal said, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand.

Startled, Will let the rest of the egg fall off his fork. “You’re up.”

“I am. I won’t let you burn me out so easily next time,” Hannibal said, taking the seat across from Will. He offered his friend a smile.

Will returned it.

“How are you feeling?” Hannibal asked.

“Fine.”

“You are aware that when I walked into the room, you just sat completely still as if you had fallen asleep like that.”

“Yes.”

Hannibal leaned forward to touch Will’s forehead. Too warm, but not blistering. Clammy. He touched the back of Will’s neck and found the temperatures to be similar. He had a fever, but low-grade.

“Did you take an aspirin?”

“Yes.”

“Does your head hurt?”

“Like someone’s playing my brain like a drum in a heavy metal band.”

Hannibal’s lips thinned.

“I suppose you want me to draw a clock,” Will said.

“If you wouldn’t protest-“

“I would,” Will said.

The two men watched each other, staring each other down. Neither man made a move to surrender. Will pushed his plate away from him.

Will said, “Jack’s called me a couple of times already.”

“What did he have to say?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t answer the phone.” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I should probably head in now though. Are you ready to go?”

“I’ll just dress,” Hannibal said. “Would you mind dropping me off at my house? Then I can change and make something to eat.”

“I can make you something for the car ride.”

“I would prefer to eat with the food I have at home,” Hannibal said.

“You wound me, Dr. Lecter.”

Will smiled. Hannibal reached across the table to give Will’s hand a squeeze. Will flipped his hand upwards to squeeze back. Will said, “I like you like this.”

“Hungry, cold, and tired.”

“Dressed down,” Will said. “Your hair is all mussed up.“ Hannibal pulled his hand away from Will’s to try to fix it as Will continued, “You’re not wearing anything fancy, your posture isn’t so stiff and perfect, and you just have this sleepy, content smile on your face. I feel like I’m seeing the personal, private you – and I like seeing you like this. You seem real.”

“What are you trying to say, Will?” he asked with a chuckle. “That I always seem fake around others?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal’s smile faded. He stood up and started to dress into his old suit. Will swivelled in his seat. “I didn’t mean it as an insult,” Will said. “I’m not saying I never felt like I was talking to the real you. I guess I just mean – I don’t know – you seem too perfect.”

“You like me imperfect because it means I am not perfect like you.”

“You don’t honestly consider yourself perfect, do you?” Will asked, laughing.

“Well, the reason why I look so real today,” he said ‘real’ in a mocking tone, “is because I hid a body for you yesterday, covered both of our tracks, and then stayed up most of the night holding your whimpering, sick body because you refuse to get help.”

Will winced. He had intended for his words to be a compliment, and he knew Hannibal liked flattery. He made a mental note to compliment only what Hannibal worked to achieve, and then his mind wandered to the reminder that he killed Abigail Hobbs, and that he might have a mental disorder. Would Hannibal try to treat him from home, or would he give up and toss him in an institution anyway?

With his vest unbuttoned and his tie untied, Hannibal pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just very tired. I didn’t mean that. Both of those things are my fault. If you got your way, you would be in police custody and I would be fretting outside of your jail cell, probably looking the same as I do now, if not worse.”

“You would have changed.”

“I wouldn’t have slept.”

The pair made eye contact. Before Will pulled his blue eyes away, Hannibal said, “I wouldn’t have slept a moment with you in there.”

“You’ve barely slept a moment with me here,” Will said with a certain sharpness in his voice that implied he took Hannibal’s insult to heart.

Hannibal cupped Will’s cheeks and then hugged Will, still sitting, against his stomach. “I loved every minute of having your sweaty body in my arms. I would never sleep again if it meant I could have you against me every night.”

“You’re very good at saying these grand romantic things,” Will replied. “I suppose it comes with a lot of practice.”

Still clutching Will, Hannibal said, “It came with a lot of fantasies and day dreams where I swept you off your feet and we rode into the sunset together.”

“I don’t think we’ll be getting our sunset any time soon.”

“Neither do I.”

Hannibal released Will. Will stood up and tied Hannibal’s tie. Hannibal’s eyes burrowed into him as he worked, trying to figure out if Will forgave him or not. He cupped Will’s cheeks in his hands again, stroking his beard with his thumbs. Will buttoned up Hannibal’s vest next and then stepped back to admire his work.

“I’m sorry,” Hannibal said again.

“We’ll both be testy today,” Will replied. “It’s fine. It just shows me what you’re like without so much self-control.”

“And do you still manage to like me?”

“I appreciate you being honest,” Will said with a half-smile. “I forgot that this is going to take a toll on you as well – or maybe I didn’t realize it.”

“It doesn’t mean you’re free from nightmares.”

“It doesn’t,” Will said, “but it doesn’t mean you’re free from them either. Come on, we should go.”

The car ride went quietly, but Will noticed Hannibal seemed content enough. A smile sat naturally on his face, and Will knew neither of them were loud or chatty people. They could be chatty together, certainly, but they were both quiet people by nature – ones who listen and observe before speaking, ones who keep their insights inside unless asked to give them.

Will was still a little sore about what Hannibal had said to him, but he couldn’t be mad at the doctor about it. He was frustrated with himself, mainly. In fact, he appreciated seeing Hannibal snap at him. It made him more human, and it created a distance from the stoic, emotionless monster he saw in his dream. Abigail’s death took a toll on both of them.

When he pulled into Hannibal’s driveway, he grabbed Hannibal’s tie to make sure the doctor kissed him before he left. He received a quick peck and a smile, but that was all he needed for a smile to spread onto his face as well. He had Hannibal. A man who would stay up all night chasing away the nightmares. A man who would literally hide a body for him. A man who would fight for him. A man who would keep him safe.

Hannibal offered him a wave as he drove out of the driveway. He didn’t realize the short kiss affected Hannibal in the same way. A peck was all Hannibal needed to feel a warm ripple spread through him. Hel thought of the deep kiss he had after Will gave him a blowjob, and the memory of Will on his knees in front of him was still fresh in the back of his mind.

He continued to think of it when he sat in his office, and it lingered in the back of his mind as he called Dr. Du Maurier. “I apologize for being so rude,” Hannibal said, “but I will not make our appointment today. I’m happy to pay for it for cancelling so late, but I am just too tired and I fear I won’t make any sense.”

“What made you so tired?”

“You wouldn’t be impressed with me.”

“Will Graham?” she asked. “What happened?”

“Shall we reschedule the next meeting?”

“Are you all right, Hannibal?”

He laughed. “Wonderful, actually. Tired, but wonderful.”

He only heard silence on the other line, and he, again, requested to reschedule their appointment. She agreed to one at the same time, several days later, and when she inquired into his mood again, he said he was about to see a client and excused himself.

He didn’t doubt for a moment that she knew he had slept with Will Graham.

Several moments later, Hannibal let Ian Wagner into the room, and the man took a seat across from him. As Hannibal sat down, he thought of Will mounting him in his chair and sucking on his lower lip.

Ian simply said, “I’m serenading someone new.”

“You’re tired of me already?”

Ian sighed and tugged on his beard. “I get infatuated all the time, but I see a new opportunity. There’s someone out there who’s just like me. We have the same interests, we have the same tastes, and he understands me, which is important. I think with him there’s actually a potential for a real relationship. Something long-term, you know? Not just sex. Not just some guy expecting a lot of gifts. And he takes his work seriously – he’s not going to complain when I have to take a few extra shifts at work.”

“Are you going to tell me who this man is?”

“No,” Ian said. “Not because I don’t trust you, but because I’m afraid if I say all this aloud and use his name, I’ll jinx it. It’s so silly, isn’t it?”

Hannibal didn’t respond. He was quiet certain Ian still spoke about him.

“So I’m trying to get his attention.”

“Serenading him, you said.”

“Yes.”

“What does that entail?” Hannibal asked.

Wagner smiled at Hannibal. Calm. Proud. “It’s not something I would care to discuss, really.”

“Well, how is he reacting to it?” Hannibal asked.

“Oh, he doesn’t know it’s me.”

Hannibal looked at Wagner with new interest. The bright blue eyes stared firmly at him. Hannibal thought they carried too much knowing. He could tell Ian thought he had information that Hannibal didn’t, and he carried a certain smugness that Hannibal didn’t quite like.

Hannibal looked at him for a moment longer and realized that Ian Wagner reminded him a bit of Will. The blue eyes, for certain, and while his hair was blond, it was styled similarly, though he did a nicer job of maintaining his beard. He was taller and broader – a stronger man, certainly. He walked with an arrogance Will didn’t, but he also possessed a fierce determination that Hannibal saw in Will from time to time and hoped to bring out more in him.

He wondered why he wanted to kill Ian Wagner – or at least taste his blood after Will shot him in the face – instead of being attracted to him.

“So how do you intend to get his attention if he doesn’t know you’re the one who’s serenading him? Does he know he’s being serenaded?”

“He will soon,” Wagner said. “And I think he will enjoy the hunt to find me and the gift I’ll have at the end of it.”

Another confident smile. He knitted his fingers together over his knee.

Hannibal pieced it together in a second. He assumed Wagner had somehow stumbled upon the knowledge that he was the Chesapeake Ripper and was killing men who looked like his lover to prove he would be a better match. He wondered how closely Wagner had followed him. After Tobias, Hannibal made extra precautions on his hunts. How had he missed Wagner?

“Aren’t you afraid you made it too easy?”

Surprised showed on Wagner’s face, and this surprised Hannibal. Was he mistaken? No. Wagner was now courting his other identity. Maybe he hadn’t expected Hannibal to solve things so quickly.

“No,” Wagner said. “No, and I don’t even have the gift ready. Why do you think it’s too easy?”

Hannibal shrugged and smiled. Wagner made things too easy for him, and he realized he had the perfect opportunity to live out his fantasy. If he could get Wagner to attack Will, Will would kill him in self-defence. He would get to taste his blood on Will’s face after all.

Wagner changed the topic. The question had obviously unsettled him, leaving Hannibal to listen to his more mundane daily activities. He couldn’t imagine listening to Wagner blather on all day every day. And what if they were hosting a dinner party together, but Wagner had to leave because of an emergency at the hospital? That would be terribly rude to their guests. Why would he think Hannibal would understand that?

Ian stood up and looked around the room as he composed his next thoughts. He saw the drawings of Will, and, with a cautious smile, he ran his finger across one of them like Abigail had previously He didn’t apologize like Abigail had, and he inspected the charcoal between his fingers absently. He made the mistake of not asking Hannibal about the drawing. When his patients saw the drawings, they always asked about them, and he assumed all of them would ask the identity of the naked man he drew in his office.

Hannibal didn’t like Ian touching even a drawing of Will, but if he could sow the seeds of hate and jealously in Ian, he would allow it. It would just mean Will could kill him faster, and that he would have to keep an additional eye out for Will.

Ian composed his thoughts and they finished their session. Hannibal went through a handful more appointments before he was finished for the day. He sat behind his desk, double checked his appointment book, and then folded his hands on the desk in front of him as he ran through the list of things he needed to accomplish.

He closed his eyes and thought of Will’s house. It wasn’t that Will was messy – he was actually rather neat and organized – but Will lived a very sparse lifestyle. He bought very little (and nothing expensive), and he repaired and fixed instead of replacing, which greatly reduced the quality of some things. Hannibal valued and admired Will’s ability to repair, but at a certain point, new and better quality things were required.

He recalled dishes piled up in the sink. Greased burned into the pans, and the knives had several stains from cleaning them. He would purchase new pans if he would be cooking at Will’s. He thought of the scratchy sheets and lumpy mattress as Will shivered against him in sleep. The comforter was fine – worn in, but warm and soft. The sheets would need to be replaced immediately. He would buy a new mattress once he discussed it with Will. He intended to talk him into purchasing a new bed – mattress, frame, the works. Next, Hannibal considered Will sliding against him in the shower. His shampoo smelt fine – pedestrian, but it was familiar. He liked Will’s fevered sweet scent, and changing the shampoo wouldn’t change that. The more pressing issue was the lack of lubricant and condoms in the apartment. Death often makes people want sex – it’s one in the eye for death. Will knew that, and he would likely be more active as Abigail’s death settled into him and his energy returned.

Hannibal knew that was why Will kneeled in front of him in the shower this morning. He wanted to taste Hannibal’s life and assure himself that he was really there.

Standing up and away from his desk, Hannibal determined how awake he felt. Could he drive, or should he sleep on one of his couches while he waited for Will? After a moment, Hannibal grabbed his car keys and left.

Several hours later, just as the sun began to set, Hannibal arrived at Will’s house. He saw the strays playfully pushing each other to look out the window at him. With his hands full of bags, Hannibal opened the door and let the strays out to roam through the front yard and do their business that didn’t require paperwork.

He went inside and put the food he either purchased or took from his house into Will’s fridge. After a moment of staring at Will’s now fully stocked fridge, Hannibal took the time to rearrange its contents and smelt a wrapped fish that Will had caught recently. He thought about Will sitting alone on a boat, thinking about him. He smiled.

Placing the newly purchases pans and knives in the sink, Hannibal set a new pair of dish gloves on the counter and draped a new apron over a chair. With new sheets, that Hannibal took the time to wash in his own washer and dryer, Hannibal moved into the bedroom, flipped the mattress, and changed Will’s sheets. He admired his work for a moment and considered taking a nap in Will’s bed. Perhaps he would wake up with Will in his arms. As he replaced the pillow cases, he heard the front door open.

“Will?” he asked.

He walked out with a pillow in his hand to see Dr. Alana Bloom standing in Will’s entranceway. She was peeking into one of the bags Hannibal had brought in. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Hannibal there. “Oh, Hannibal. I saw the dogs out and thought-“

She hesitated and looked back into the bag.

Condoms and lubricant. Hannibal acknowledged he bought a few too many. He had planned to jokingly cover the bed in condoms and fill the nightstand drawer with bottles of lubricant. He still thought it was funny that Alana looked into a grocery bag filled to the brim with both. Luckily, the second bag was already in Will’s bedroom.

She gave Hannibal another look, her brown eyes dropping to the pillow in Hannibal’s arm. Her mouth opened, but no question came out.

Hannibal smiled, relishing in her obvious confusion and discomfort. He decided to lie for Will’s sake. “Will hasn’t been sleeping well,” Hannibal explained. “So I’m trying to make him more comfortable. His mattress is terribly lumpy, did you know that?”

Alana puffed up slightly. “I did not.”

“Incredibly uncomfortable,” Hannibal said, tsking. “And I don’t know where he found his old sheets. They’re like trying to sleep with sandpaper.”

Alana thinned her lips and raised her eyebrows.

“I had to test out his bed to see what needed to be improved.”

She nodded. “And why is there a bag full of condoms and lubricant?”

“I explained to Will that achieving orgasm before bed will often help him sleep through the night.”

Narrowing her eyes and nodding, she replied, “And you’re hiring prostitutes to help him achieve orgasm?”

“Will hardly needs to hire prostitutes,” Hannibal said. He reached into the bag, grabbed a condom, and opened it. “Condoms can be fun masturbation for someone with a penis, and it is much easier to clean up afterwards. May I see your finger please?”

After a beat of hesitation, Alana held out her finger. Hannibal turned the condom inside out and placed it over his finger. He lightly clutched her finger with the condom between them and rubbed her finger gently. “Can you feel the ribbing?”

“Yes.”

He took the condom off of her finger. “Well, if I were masturbating with that particular type of condom, I would feel the ribbing as well.”

Alana hardly looked impressed, but Hannibal was quite pleased with himself. He looked forward to seeing Will’s horrified expression as he told him the situation. “So you’re making sure Will enjoys jerking off?” Alana asked.

“I am helping him achieve orgasm, yes,” Hannibal said. “I want him to start sleeping through the night. I notice you’re not interrogating me quite so thoroughly about the sheets. Do you want to know the thread count?”

“Are you worried you’re taking too much of a personal interest in Will?” she asked.

“You don’t want to have this conversation with me, Alana.”

“I think if you’re helping Will jerk off, you might be getting too personal.”

“It’s important to have a healthy sexual lifestyle even if it’s simply with oneself.” Hannibal set the pillow down on Will’s couch, wondering the last time Will vacuumed it.

“Is Will even here?” Alana asked. “Did you just let yourself in?”

“He gave me the key when I last fed his dogs for him,” Hannibal said. “He knows I’m here today, and we have an appointment later. I left a message on his phone letting him know I would be here changing his sheets. I also intend to wash his dishes. Is that too personal as well?”

“It is a little, Hannibal.”

“So I am not allowed to buy Will new things to help him sleep, but you’re allowed to lead Will on, Alana?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my understanding that you let him kiss you – more than once – and when you two discussed the occasion afterwards, you didn’t say you weren’t interested, you just said you weren’t interested in him in the state he’s in right now. You’re not allowed to save men for later until it’s more convenient for you to date them.”

Hannibal had obviously thrown Alana off of her footing from the start, and he had no intention of letting her regain it. Still surprised, Alana shook her head. “He told you that?”

“He told me what happened, and I reached the conclusions on my own. He doesn’t think you’re leading him on, but I do. He might never get better. And what if he does get better and then regresses. If it’s mental illness-“

“I’ve known Will much longer than you. It’s not mental illness.”

“It still doesn’t mean he won’t regress. You either say yes or no, Alana. You don’t say ‘Maybe later when you are better suited to my needs.’”

“Hannibal this is widely inappropriate and, quite frankly, none of your god damn business.”

“Jack Crawford made Will my business,” he replied. “And I like Will, and I intend to protect Will from things that will or have hurt him.”

“And I’m one of those things?”

“He just doesn’t realize it.”

“I’m going to leave,” Alana said, “before I start saying incredibly mean things to you that will make me feel much better.”

Hannibal followed her out, watching her clench and unclench her fists. “You’re angry because you know I’m right, Alana.”

“Fuck you, Dr. Lecter,” she said. She turned around to face him as she continued, “You will recall I recommended you to Will. I want him to be safe just as much as you do.”

“Then you made the right choice to pick me instead of yourself.”

Alana flinched as if Hannibal had hit her. She opened her mouth to reply something, but instead she turned away and walked towards her car. Hannibal could almost see steam coming off of her head. It was unwise to piss off Alana Bloom, but if Will was going to be completely his own, he needed to create distance between them. Plus, Hannibal knew he had pushed the right buttons. Alana wouldn’t say anything to Will because she knew under the surface there was some truth to it. Part of her wanted to save Will for herself. So she would, very likely, continue to avoid Will Graham.

And if she told Jack Crawford Hannibal was in Will’s home replacing the sheets, doing the dishes, and buying condoms, well, Jack would understand.

Hannibal waved as Alana drove away, feeling very smug and intelligent. He looked forward to the moment Will would arrive at home so he could taste him on his lips. He would rip open Will’s shirt and kiss the center of his chest before flicking his tongue against one of his nipples. He pushed the fantasy away, deciding it was best no too arouse himself too early.

Taking the pillow with him, Hannibal put the bag of condoms and lubricant into the bedroom and unpacked both bags. As Hannibal let the dogs back inside, he counted them to make sure each one returned. Donning the apron, Hannibal put on the dish gloves and started to wash Will’s old dishes as well as the new ones he just purchased.

Meanwhile, Will thought he passed Alana’s car on the way home, and he thought about it as he pulled into his driveway and parked behind Hannibal’s car. If it was Alana, she had been driving too fast for the Wolf Trap roads, and he hoped she didn’t get a ticket. He went inside his house and greeted his dogs, hugging and petting each one enthusiastically before talking to them about their busy days.

“Hannibal?” he asked.

“Kitchen.”

Will scratched Winston’s chest before moving into the kitchen. Any thoughts he had about Alana vanished when he saw Hannibal scrubbing one of his pans in the sink. The doctor’s grey suit jacket sat on his kitchen chair, and a simple, white apron covered his matching grey vest. His lightly pinstriped white shirt was rolled up above his elbows, and yellow dish gloves covered most of the skin.

Hannibal always managed to look elegant.

With a smile in the corner of his lips, Will asked, “What are you doing?”

“I purchased new dishes for you. You’ll find it easier to cook when there is no grease embedded into the pans because the food won’t cling to it.”

“But my pans are fine.”

“You are not listening to me. They are not fine.”

“The new ones are going to stain just like that,” Will said.

“That’s why we aren’t throwing out the old ones,” Hannibal said. “Certain foods that will always stain we can cook in the old pans. When we cook something that will likely not stain – or something that needs to be turned frequently like eggs – we will use the new pans.”

“How much did those pans cost?” Will asked.

“Irrelevant,” Hannibal said. “I also purchased new sheets for you.”

“And how much did they cost?”

“You will be happy to know that I got them at a very good sale price,” Hannibal said. “But it does mean they are a rather ugly red colour. I didn’t think you would mind.”

“How very money-conscious of you,” Will said, heading towards the fridge to grab a drink. He took a step back when he saw it almost completely filled, and he couldn’t find his juice pitcher. “Was all of this on sale too?”

“A lot of it, yes,” Hannibal said. “Some of it is stock from my own fridge.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a frugal housewife.”

Hannibal stopped scrubbing and turned around to look at Will. “Is that really how you see me?”

“Right now, yes,” Will said. “You should look at yourself.”

“I bought you a gift,” Hannibal said. “It’s in the bedroom. When you’re finished looking at it, come back here.”

“All right,” Will said, assuming Hannibal bought him a new bedframe and mattress.

As Will returned to his bedroom, he thought of all the changes Hannibal already made. It rubbed him the wrong way, but not a whole lot. He tried to decipher his feelings, and he decided he felt more relieved than anything. He had someone else to worry about things with him, and now there were fewer decisions he needed to make himself. He could come home and sleep without having to worry about scraping grease off of his pans.

He laughed as he saw the bed covered in wrapped condoms. It was a relief, too, to see his old bed there. He knew Hannibal wasn’t happy with it, but he appreciated that the doctor didn’t just change things while he was gone. Will moved the condoms into a pile and opened the nightstand drawer. He simply smiled this time as he saw a large, assorted collection of lubricant. He looked at the different kinds. Oil based. Water based. Flavoured. Heating. Massage. He didn’t know there were so many kinds.

He found one of the bags and Will moved the condoms back into it. Before putting the bag on top of the nightstand, he saved one condom and put it into his pocket. He read a few of the instructions for the lubricant and grabbed a simple water-based one so it wouldn’t affect the strength of the condom. He admitted to himself that the other kinds definitely intimidated him.

Folding his hands behind his back to hide the lubricant, Will returned to the kitchen. He had intended to make a joke, but whatever joke he had planned to make left his thoughts as he stared at Hannibal.

The doctor still stood doing the dishes, but now he only wore the apron and dish gloves. He had even taken the time to remove his socks, and goose bumps crawled across Hannibal’s skin. Setting the lubricant on the kitchen counter, Will lightly ran his fingers up the back of Hannibal’s legs. “Is this a response to me calling you a frugal housewife?”

“Well, I don’t want to get my clothes dirty while I’m washing dishes,” Hannibal replied, leaning against Will’s light touches. “Then I would have to wash my clothes and that would use up detergent and water. This is clearly the most financially efficient way to do dishes.”

Will moved his hands up the front of Hannibal’s apron, pressing his thumbs against his stiff nipples. He kissed Hannibal’s shoulder before pressing his lips against the dip where his neck and shoulder blade met. With one hand teasing Hannibal’s nipple, the other traced down his chest and stomach before caressing his pelvis.

“Did you still want me to make love to you?” Will murmured.

“Yes.”

Will unbuttoned his pants and then spread the lubricant onto both of his hands. He admitted to himself that he was nervous, and he worried he wouldn’t stay hard. He tried to file all the images he saw for work into the back of his mind, focussing only on Hannibal’s lean back and firm ass. He pressed a finger in gently, pumping it slowly deeper as he felt Hannibal relax around him. His other hand squeezed Hannibal’s testicles before stroking the length of his cock.

“Don’t worry about being gentle,” Hannibal said.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

He wanted Will to fuck him so hard he’d feel it for days. He wanted Will’s nails and teeth to break his skin. He wanted to feel that violence, to know it lurked inside of him.

Will pressed a second finger in. He curled them slightly and slid them deeper into Hannibal. When the doctor gripped the counter, Will smiled. He pumped his fingers rougher, using his other hand to encircle and stroke Hannibal’s cock. Will’s own erection throbbed against his leg, and he released Hannibal to take it out. He put the condom on and spread lubricant across it. Hannibal leaned towards him, and Will slid his shaft between his ass cheeks, teasing him. Kissing Hannibal’s neck again, Will edged the head out his cock into his ass.

Hannibal pushed back against him roughly, forcing Will’s erection deeper inside of him. A hint of pain shot through him – he hadn’t expected his friend to be so thick. Responding in kind, Will gripped Hannibal’s hips, thrusting the rest of his cock into him. Hannibal let out a sharp gasp as Will ground his pelvis against his ass. With short, quick pumps, Will stayed almost entirely inside of Hannibal, tracing his fingers up the doctor’s body to feel him writhe against him.

Hannibal savoured the pain, clinging to it as pleasure rippled inside of him. He loved that Will didn’t ask if it hurt, and Will was too afraid that the doctor would say it did if he asked. Kissing Hannibal’s shoulder, Will nearly pulled out of him before slamming the entire length of his cock back into him. Hannibal bucked back against it, and Will repeated the process twice more, gritting his teeth to keep from grunting.

Pressing his thumb against Hannibal’s nipple, Will returned to the sharp, deep thrusts and listened to Hannibal pant. He loved the feeling of Hannibal’s sweaty back squirming against him. Hannibal’s cock throbbed against the apron, and the doctor basked in its neglect. Starting to pull back with each thrust, Will gripped Hannibal’s hips again as Hannibal bucked back against his rhythm. His cock slid quickly in and out of Hannibal’s tight ass, and Will neared his peak with the sensation. His legs grew weaker as he slammed into him harder. He dug his nails into Hannibal’s thighs to keep himself steady.

Will forced his entire length back inside of Hannibal as he came with a weak gasp, and both men briefly cursed the condom for catching his load. After Will pulled out of him, Hannibal turned around and kissed him roughly, biting his lower lip and smudging his glasses with his nose. The force surprised Will, but he responded by forcing Hannibal’s body against the sink, curving the doctor’s body against his own. Hannibal’s cock throbbed against his stomach, and he moved himself against it.

Hannibal broke the kiss to murmur, “Would you suck it again?”

Will simply nodded and kissed Hannibal again. The doctor’s gentle voice only intoxicated him further, and it made him all the more determined to send him over the edge. Hannibal removed his apron as Will nuzzled him. Gripping Hannibal’s ass with one hand, he started to jerk him off with the other. He kissed Hannibal again and, as Hannibal had hoped, Will bit his lower lip as he pulled away. He noticed Will was good at mirroring his movements, and he made a mental note to continue to give him ideas that way.

As Will lowered onto his knees, he kissed Hannibal’s nipple, the center of his chest, and the center of his pelvis while he jerked him off. Will kissed the head of his erection, and before he had the chance to take it into his mouth, semen flecked against his glasses and into his hair. Hannibal loved the sight too much to apologize, and Will took his erection into his mouth without complaint. Hannibal stroked Will’s hair with his wet dish gloves as Will sucked him until he climaxed with a sharp gasp, and then Will sucked him until he swallowed his orgasm in its entirety.

When Will pulled away, Hannibal made no movement to pull Will upwards despite his desire to kiss him. Will kissed his pelvis and finally took off his condom before putting his cock away. Exhaustion caught up with Hannibal, and he adjusted his stance to stay on his weak legs.

“Hannibal, come to bed,” Will said. “We’re both tired, and we can try out your new sheets.”

Hannibal nodded, took off his dish gloves and followed him. The cold floors nipped at his feet, and he climbed onto the bed as Will undressed in the room. As he stretched across the comforter, sleep settled into his limbs and weighed down his eyelids.

Will stretched out beside him, propping his head up with his arm. His free hand drew circles on Hannibal’s chest. “I think this is the first time I’ve gotten a good look at you naked,” Will said.

“Am I everything you imagined?” Hannibal asked with a sleepy smile.

“Your suits make you look wider,” Will said. “You’re slimmer than I thought.”

Hannibal slid closer to Will, and his friend teased the hair on his chest. “Is this merely an observation or are you filing a complaint?”

“Observation,” Will said. “I might file a complaint about your cock though. It looks so offensively large.”

Hannibal moved his hips against Will’s to compare. His friend’s was only slightly shorter, but notably thicker. “You are incorrect,” Hannibal said, “I will be filing a complaint against yours.”

“It’s just because you’re soft,” Will said.

“You need to accept that fact that you have a large penis and stop worrying about my unremarkable, average one,” Hannibal flippantly replied, hiding the smile on his face. “Unless you are doing this to rub in how average and unremarkable my penis is.”

“You know that’s not what I’m doing,” Will huffed.

Hannibal smiled and grabbed the back of Will’s head to pull him in for a kiss. Will turned the kiss hungry and deep, flicking his tongue against Hannibal’s and pressing their bodies together. Hannibal wondered how he enjoyed being with one person so much. When the kiss ended, Will pulled away sharply.

Hannibal frowned. “Are you all right? Did I upset you?”

“No, no, it’s not you.” Will raised his smudged and sticky glasses to rub his eye. “Do you mind if we just talk for a minute?”

“Do you mean you want us to talk or do you mean you need me to listen?”

“Listen.”

Hannibal exhaled in relief. “I can listen.”

“Can we get under the covers first? I’m freezing just looking at you.”

Hannibal moved underneath the comforter, and Will followed suit. He took off his glasses and folded them on the nightstand. Hannibal stayed on his back and put both arms behind his head. Will positioned himself back on his side, propping his head up with his hand so he could watch Hannibal. His other hand found its place back on Hannibal’s chest.

“Satisfied?”

“Yes.”

Hannibal waited for Will to begin, and Will took a moment to piece together what he wanted to say. “I had to talk to Freddie Lounds today.”

“Well, I’m surprised you had an erection at all today.”

“Me too,” Will said, smiling back at Hannibal. It faded as he continued, “Apparently this killer – the So-Called, we’ve been calling him – e-mailed Lounds photos of the scene so she could publish them. She didn’t come to us directly with this information, as per her usual habit. Jack thought the photos were taken by some cop trying to make an extra buck, but Price realized that the photos were taken much earlier than that. So we called Lounds in.”

“And?”

“She’s already tried to trace the e-mail herself, but we have a team working on it as well. It doesn’t look like it’s going to lead us anywhere. The thing is, is that Freddie already received the next crime scene even though we haven’t even found it yet.”

“And she didn’t think to contact you?”

“She is a snake, Hannibal. And another snake is going to come along and swallow her whole.”

“What a relief that would be.”

Will smiled weakly and continued to rub Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal put his hand over top of Will’s and gave it a squeeze. Will continued, “Everyone’s out looking for the new victim now. We have people looking at mouldings of the room, people investigating the types of leaves that can be seen on the trees outside of the windows. Everything and anything to find this poor guy.”

“Is there a pattern?”

Will nodded. “Still looks like me. Looks like the heart is probably missing. Different pose this time and different mutilations. We can’t tell if they’re post-mortem or not.”

“What sort of pose is it?”

Will didn’t reply immediately. He stared hard into the distance, and Hannibal quickly realized Will didn’t want to say. Sitting up, Hannibal asked again, “What sort of pose is the corpse in?”

“Remember how you sketched me laying on the couch?”

“Will – is it clearly an imitation of how you slept in my office?”

“Complete with the white blanket,” Will said. “Did he see me kill Abigail?”

Hannibal wondered the same thing. “Will, we have to tell Jack.”

“Oh, I just happened to be sleeping naked on Hannibal’s couch.”

“Jack needs to know. He’ll put you – us – into protective custody. Will, what if you’re next? The Chesapeake Ripper kills in threes, right? What if you are number three?”

Will didn’t reply, and Hannibal simply hugged Will to him. He realized he may have to kill Ian Wagner himself, but he could protect Will in the meantime. He rested his head against Will’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. The steady beats were a comfort to him.

“I’ll figure out a way to talk to Jack,” Will said, hugging Hannibal against him.

“I can’t lose you.”

“How selfish of you to say.”

“I don’t care.”

Will stroked Hannibal’s hair, and the doctor tried to formulate a plan to kill Ian Wagner as soon as possible. He wanted Will to kill him, yes, but he couldn’t risk Will. Wagner was a large man, and he would likely overwhelm Will in strength. As he thought out his strategy, Hannibal found himself twisting into sleep.

A phone ringing woke him up, and after two tries to reach for it, he answered it. “Dr. Lecter.”

“Dr. Lecter?”

“Yes, this is he,” Hannibal said, rubbing his eyes. “Can I help you?”

Will slept with his back to him. They’d been asleep for around ten minutes, likely less for Will. “This is Jack Crawford and I would like to know why you are answering Will’s phone.”

“Oh. He told me about Freddie Lounds’ mystery pictures and I insisted on staying with him. I must have fallen asleep on the couch and answered the phone without thinking.”

“Will’s lucky to have a friend like you, Hannibal.”

“It’s the other way around,” Hannibal said. He looked at Will stirring next to him. “I can search out Will for you.”

“No, no, just give him an address for me and tell him to get out here ASAP. Stay with him Dr. Lecter. I don’t want you alone in his house.”

Jack gave Hannibal the information and they exchanged quick goodbyes. Will awoke as Hannibal dressed, and Hannibal explained the situation. In the car, Will sat behind the wheel, and Hannibal leaned his arm against the passenger side door, propping his head up with his hand. He strained to keep his eyes open. Heavy snow clouded the windshield, and Will leaned forward, straining to see clearly. The news had awoken Will with a new energy, and Hannibal noticed his blue eyes looked aware, coherent.

“I would have told Jack we wouldn’t be able to meet him if I had realized there was this sort of storm outside,” Hannibal said.

“I’ve driven through worse,” Will said, “but if it makes you uncomfortable, I can turn around.”

“If you want to press ahead, Will, then press ahead.”

Will smiled, and Hannibal settled into his seat, watching the wipers move back and forth. Sleep nibbled at the edges of his vision. Will glanced at Hannibal, seeing that the doctor nodded off into sleep. He made no motion to keep him awake, and he hoped the car ride would put him under. He didn’t want Hannibal seeing the crime scene. The victim looked closer to Will this time, and the mutilations were a step further than the last one.

Will suspected it wasn’t the Chesapeake Ripper. The Ripper already had his groove. Each killing was a preplanned art piece, a show for the victim and a print of it for the FBI. This new killer was still experimenting, and he could, since his victim was already dead. The show was for someone else – the show was for him.

Hannibal wasn’t stupid. He would see it was a message for Will as soon as he stepped into the room. What unsettled Will, though, was that this time the killer placed a weapon in the victim’s hand, as if warning him to defend himself. He wondered what sort of game the So-Called was playing. Did he want some big show down between them? Had he already met the killer and forgotten completely?

Freddie Lounds entered his mind for a moment, but she didn’t strike him as the killing type. She had the stomach for it and, hell, she had the motive for it. Even in prison, she would be able to write articles and bask in the attention it gave her. But he doubted she would be obvious about it. Emailing pictures to herself? Come on.

Will’s blue eyes widened as he saw something on the road. A flash of darkness. Was he slipping? He flicked on his high beams, and while the snow looked denser, he could see a shadow ahead of him. The tall antlers. The feathered backside. It had to be the creature in its animal form rather than the human form.

Will felt awake, but he realized he must be slipping. The creature wasn’t real. He put his foot down on the gas, listening to the tires squeal and struggle to grasp the icy roads. The car lurched forward, knocking Hannibal back awake. He looked at Will first, and Will’s eyes stayed locked on the road ahead of him. He was going to kill the creature – maybe then it would finally flee from his peripheral vision. Maybe then he could sleep.

Hannibal glanced out the window and saw the headlights illuminate the elk.

Without a word, he leaned over to grab the wheel.

Hannibal’s arm snapped in two places as the airbags went off.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he awoke. His body leaned forward as though the car was at an angle, and when he looked out the shattered window he only saw snow. They were in a ditch. His arm hung limp at his side, and he used his other hand to rub his face. His airbag had deflated, punctured by one of the antlers. He looked to Will’s side, and his friend looked imprisoned in the beast’s antlers. They encircled his shoulders and head, and he could see several places where the antlers penetrated his body. His face seemed to be free from the antlers on the side he could see, but there was blood smeared on Will’s forehead, and several cuts on his bearded cheeks.

Unbuckling his seat belt, he checked Will’s pulse.

A steady rhythm.

He thought of listening to Will’s heartbeat earlier and smiled. He fished his cellphone out of his pocket and called for help.

As he waited for emergency crews, Hannibal considered his situation. The fear in the back of his throat surprised him. He had expected to feel cheated. He wanted to be the one to kill Will. He looked forward to cutting out his stomach. He was narrowing down the recipes he would use with it. He still couldn’t decide if he would invite someone for dinner or dine alone. He liked the idea of toasting the empty seat across from him before the meal.

Will’s seat.

He wasn’t ready for it to be empty, and it was cruel to try to take Will away from him now. He leaned over to take Will’s pulse again, and he didn’t remove his hand. Will’s life beat against his fingers. He exhaled and smiled. Relief washed over him.


	5. Chapter 5

Hannibal awoke to the smell of Alana Bloom’s flowery perfume. He sat in a chair by an empty bed, and as he wondered where Will went, he saw Jack Crawford leaning on the wall across from the bed. The smell of the perfume overwhelmed Jack’s aftershave.

“Did I miss Dr. Bloom?” Hannibal asked.

“She convinced the doctors to do a few more tests on Will,” Jack said.

“Did he wake up?”

Jack nodded. “He explained what happened, and Dr. Bloom is incredibly worried. She keeps talking about these diseases I’ve never heard of – things that would cause one to hallucinate so frequently. I told her you did tests and found nothing, but she didn’t listen.”

“And I slept through this discussion?”

“Will said it was important you slept, and Alana wasn’t interested in your opinion.”

“Are you interested in my opinion?” Hannibal asked.

“Of course.”

“I don’t see any harm in giving Will more tests so long as it doesn’t put more strain on his body,” Hannibal said. “Is he all right?”

“He’s fine,” Jack said. “A minor concussion. Nothing stitches couldn’t fix in the way of cuts. No breaks. The antlers pretty much missed anything important on his body.”

“Good.”

Hannibal smiled and rubbed his face. His other arm was in a cast and sling. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was gently holding Will’s hand, watching his chest rise and fall. His friend’s head was shaved, and white gauze covered several places that hid lacerations and stitches. His beard, too, had chunks sheared where wounds had been cleaned, but the cuts weren’t deep enough to require more stitches. He saw a bruise on Will’s shoulder, and another on his head.

Jack sighed and sat down in a car on the other side of Will’s empty bed. Hannibal wondered if he held Will’s hand in his sleep, and if someone had seen it. He hardly cared, but he knew it would make Will uncomfortable. “Alana voiced concern that you might be getting too personally invested in Will’s well-being.”

Hannibal scoffed. “She and I had a disagreement and she is overreacting.”

“She said you’ve practically moved into his house.”

“I replaced the sheets on his bed and bought him new pans,” Hannibal said. “You know how important sleep is, Jack.”

“Dr. Lecter, she described to me a rather vulgar display-“

“All true,” Hannibal said. “I bought condoms in excess as a joke for Will, and apparently Alana did not find the humour in it.”

“Did you really put the condom over her finger, Hannibal?”

“I was illustrating its function.”

Jack shook his head and used his hand to cover a smile appearing on his mouth.

Hannibal continued, “I don’t believe in airing dirty laundry in public, so I will not go into detail about what we disagreed about, but I want to assure you that my friendship with Will is perfectly healthy, though our humour is perhaps a bit crude for some people’s taste.”

“Hannibal, I already worry about Will getting too close to the investigations. Please don’t tell me I have to worry about you getting too close as well. You’re not going to let this consume you, are you?”

“No, no,” Hannibal said. “Will was having a hard time sleeping, and I feared it was making his condition worse. When he made no effort to make himself for comfortable, I took matters into my own hands.”

“And you don’t think giving Will masturbation tips is too personal?”

“A crude joke,” Hannibal said, “that Dr. Alana Bloom did not appreciate.”

Jack sighed and leaned his arm on a table and his head on his fist. Hannibal waited to see if Jack would break the silence; he had nothing left to say. “Will just tried to smash his car through a hallucination that turned out to be a very real elk. Hannibal, I think it is safe to assume that we are losing Will.”

“I believe it’s time to separate him from your work, if that is what you are implying,” Hannibal said. “While I don’t think this incident is directly related to work, I don’t like that this killer is directly targeting him. He told me about the latest victim, and, Jack, he would not approve of me telling you this, but he fell asleep in my office the other day in that exact pose, and underneath a white blanket.”

Jack’s eyes widened, and he raised his head off of his fist. “Are you certain?”

“Will didn’t show me the photo, but he noted the similarities himself. And it wasn’t something he wanted to tell me, I pried it out of him.”

Jack sighed.

Hannibal asked, “Do you intend to use Will Graham as bait? Because, if not, I would recommend relocating him under a different name.”

“Do I seem like the sort of person that would use Will as bait, Dr. Lecter?” When Hannibal opened his mouth, Jack said, “No, don’t answer that. I’ll look into relocating Will unless he insists on staying. I won’t be using him as bait – we’ll put him under protection, but he can stay in his home if that’s what he requests.”

“If you relocate him, he will still need help,” Hannibal said.

“You mean a police escort?”

“I mean me,” Hannibal said. “We cannot let his mental state go unobserved.”

“You really want to abandon your practice here to follow him?” Jack asked.

“Yes.”

“And you’re trying to tell me that Alana is overreacting when she says you’re being too personal with Will?”

“Jack, Will is my friend. I can start fresh somewhere new. I can get new patients. I cannot get another Will, and I refuse to watch him fall to pieces just because you think I am too close to Will. I am not Will Graham. If I get too close to Will, I am not going to fall to pieces. He is not a crime scene. I am not getting too close to a murderer. He is sick, and he needs constant care if he’s going to get better. Pulling away a psychiatrist he trusts and giving him a new one in a new place is not going to do him any good. He doesn’t trust them to begin with. All the walls I’ve been working hard to break down will be back up for a stranger, and it will greatly slow down his recovery.”

Alana suddenly barged into the hospital room. “It’s anti-MDA insiphilitus,” she said with triumph in her voice. “Will wasn’t happy about all the scans, but we found what’s wrong.”

Jack nodded at Alana and said to Hannibal, “I’ll discuss what you proposed with Will and give him the final decision.”

“Thank you.”

“What did Hannibal propose?” Alana asked. “Hannibal, when you took Will in for scans before, did he show signs of-“

“His scans were normal when I took him in,” he said. “I tested for it specifically.”

“I want to see those scans.”

“I suppose you’ll have to take that up with Dr. Sutcliff,” Hannibal said.

Alana thinned her lips, and Hannibal showed no smile on his face despite the one he felt inside. Jack said, “Please don’t make me start treating you two like children. If this is some sort of pissing contest for Will’s attention, let me tell you, Dr. Bloom, you lost the minute you referred me to Hannibal. His well-being is not your responsibility.”

“It’s yours,” Alana said to Jack. “And you passed the buck onto Dr. Lecter-“

“Because he’s hardly qualified to be the judge of Will’s mental state,” Hannibal said.

“And are you, Hannibal?” Alana said.

“Dr. Lecter said he did the tests,” Jack said, “and there is no reason he would lie – especially since we have proof – a corpse, if you recall – that Will went in for the tests on top of Will’s own word. Hannibal was hardly in any condition to push for additional tests today, so it is a good thing you were here to ask the right questions and insist on the right tests. But there are only so many psychiatrists I am going to place on one man’s back, and we already decided on Dr. Lecter. I have no idea what juvenile squabble you two are having, and quite frankly I don’t care, but behaving like this is not helping Will.”

Neither Alana nor Hannibal replied, but Alana showed some discomfort while Hannibal stayed relaxed, as if the conversation hadn’t been about him at all. It only irritated Alana more, but she kept her mouth closed. Hannibal watched her fists clench and unclench. He wondered if she would go scream somewhere later.

“Now, Dr. Bloom, will you please escort me to Will so I can discuss some things with him. I’ll be behind you in a moment.”

Alana left, pointedly ignoring Hannibal, and Jack Crawford lowered his voice as he said, “Next time you decide to ruffle someone’s feathers, please choose someone else.”

“I’ve known Alana for a while. She’ll feel better once she finds the elegant words she wants to yell at me.”

“You better hope it’s sooner rather than later,” Jack said. “Go to the cafeteria and get something to eat. I can drive you home after I’m done talking to Will.”

“I’d like to stay with him, if that’s fine with you.”

Jack sighed. “I’ll find out if they’ll allow it, and I’ll recommend it. But, Hannibal, I want you to know that Alana makes a very good point about you getting too close to Will. Even if there’s no harm in you doing so, she’s not being irrational.”

“She may have a valid complaint, but you also haven’t heard my side, and I am certain you don’t want to be dragged into the larger picture.”

“I don’t,” Jack said. “Thank you for trying to leave me out of it.”

“Anytime,” Hannibal replied with a small smile.

Once Jack left, Hannibal stood up and stretched. He tried not to let the disappointment seep in as he walked towards the cafeteria. Will would get better. The fevered sweetness scent would fade, leaving Hannibal only with the cheap aftershave. He wouldn’t get to watch Will deteriorate any further, at least not yet.

As he walked and mulled his new circumstances over, a familiar face caught his eye. “Dr. Lecter.”

“Dr. Wagner,” Hannibal said, politely shaking Ian Wagner’s gloved hand.

Wagner was clad in his professional attire. Scrubs and a lab coat. He wore glasses, something Hannibal hadn’t seen him in before. Wagner said, “I heard about your accident. And you came in with your partner, was it?”

“Friend.”

“Really?” Ian said, surprised. “I thought-“

“Friend,” Hannibal repeated.

Ian smoothed out his beard and said, “Yes, well, I’m glad you’re both all right. I heard your friend had quite the scare, but thankfully nothing damaged his skull. I’ve seen the x-rays myself, he’s in fine shape.”

Hannibal considered grabbing Ian’s neck and lifting him off the ground, watching as his patient struggled to breathe. Ian would likely try to scratch and kick him, but the pain would be a wonderful addition to the memory of watching the life leave Ian Wagner’s body. He supposed it was a bad idea, what with all the people around. Could he drag him into a supply closet?

“I’m sorry they couldn’t find you a cast that matched your suits,” Ian said with a polite smile.

“Something less obtrusive would have been nice,” Hannibal replied. “You’re not the doctor treating my friend though, are you?”

“No,” Ian said. “No, of course not. I just looked because I knew he was associated with you. I know, it’s extremely unprofessional of me and probably offends your sensibilities.”

“It does.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry. I’m drowning in appointments today, and I wouldn’t have time to check on him again even if I wanted to. I really should go – and I know you’d prefer not to chit-chat with me anyway.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I really am glad you’re both all right,” Ian said as he walked away.

Hannibal wondered if it was because Ian wanted to personally kill Will, just like Hannibal himself had a few hours before. He didn’t like that Ian skulked around the same hospital, and he liked even less that Ian basically told him he had already prepared his alibi. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, and no one would get him out of Will’s hospital room.

While Hannibal gathered caffeine, Will Graham and Jack Crawford walked back to Will’s room. Will walked with an IV bag on a pole, and he didn’t appreciate how familiar the situation felt. Alana was back with the doctors discussing how to properly treat Will, and Jack was notably silent as they walked to the room.

Jack wasn’t known to fill silence with idle chatter, but Will could tell he thought about something specific and was trying to decide how to discuss it with Will. Jack said, “I don’t want you to stay here.”

“At the hospital?”

“In the state,” Jack said. “I’ve already made phone calls. I can set you up in Florida as a diesel mechanic in a boatyard.”

Will stopped walking. “Is this because of the accident?”

“Hannibal told me how familiar the latest kill was,” Jack said. “If the So-Called is stalking you, I don’t want you anywhere near here.”

“But I know I can figure this out – I know I can find him.”

“He’s already found you Will, and if the So-Called is the Ripper, then he’s going to kill in threes. I don’t want you to be his finale.”

Jack returned to walking, and after a moment Will followed him. Jack continued, “If you insist on staying, I won’t stop you, but it’s not something I would be happy about, and it is something I would lose sleep over. I’ve been pushing you closer and closer to the edge Will, and now that a creature has come out of the abyss to eat you from that edge, I intend to pull you away.”

Jack was surprised at how defeated Will looked. With his head shorn and his glasses cracked, he certainly looked pitiful, but his entire stance had changed as well. His shoulders hung low. His feet shuffled. His eyes stared intently into the floor.

Jack stopped him and put a hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t a failure, Will. If you die, that’s a failure. This is a warning – this is something telling us not to let you wade deeper into the quicksand. This is time to pull you out.”

“But I’ll get better now,” Will softly said. “I can help.”

“We’ll talk on the phone. We’ll brainstorm. But your head needs to stay low.”

Will’s disappointment confused Jack. He didn’t know Will was determined to make up for Abigail Hobbs’ death, and now that he couldn’t even work, he couldn’t atone for that life. Will said, “What if more people die because I’m not on the field?”

“What if you’re the next one to die?” Jack asked. “Then people will keep dying after you’re gone. You’ll sleep better, surely, but I won’t. I won’t sleep again.”

Will let that seep in, and then two started walking again. Jack said, “Hannibal wants to go with you.”

Will smiled at that. He wanted nothing more than to fold himself up as small as possible into Hannibal’s arms. He remembered waking up to Hannibal’s hand in his own, their fingers loosely twined together. He remembered when he saw Hannibal and Abigail together in the hospital, and Hannibal sleeping at her bedside surprised him. It didn’t surprise him now.

“Good,” Will said. “The So-Called has definitely seen us together. So if I go missing, he might target Hannibal anyway.”

“Alana thinks Hannibal is interfering too much in your personal life.”

“What personal life?”

“Good point.”

Jack didn’t elaborate further, and Will was too tired to care. He noticed that Alana avoided being along with him and speaking directly with him – she often would talk to him through a doctor or talk about him like he wasn’t in the room. It pissed him off, but he assumed Hannibal had said or done something to throw her off her footing. He would hear about it eventually, and he’d likely scold Hannibal about it later.

When Will returned to the room, Hannibal sat back in his chair with his cup of coffee. Relief washed over him as Hannibal’s eyes briefly met his own. Will took off his glasses, set them on the nightstand, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could almost feel Hannibal’s large, soft hands holding his own, his fingers lightly brushing the back of his hand. It occurred to Will that he could have killed Hannibal in the car accident – that he could have woken up to an empty chair and the cold air around him. He felt like he was slowly killing off all the people he cared about – and who cared about him. Now that Alana discovered the problem, Hannibal would be safe from him, and he could be with Hannibal without the fear of harming him. But he still feared that possibility – both the possibility that he could harm Hannibal and the possibility that he would have to live without him.

While Will got comfortable in bed, Jack spoke to them both about relocating, agreeing with Will about the possibility that Hannibal would be targeted if Will went missing. He then told Hannibal that he could stay in the room for the night, and that an officer would always be positioned outside of the room so that no one unauthorized would enter. Will would stay isolated and safe until they could relocate him.

“Is there a list of hospital staff authorized to enter the room?” Hannibal asked.

Jack nodded. “We kept everything to a minimum so there would be no confusion. Are you going to ask me to see the list?”

“Yes.”

Jack sighed, and when he brought in the list, Hannibal looked it over. Ian Wagner wasn’t on it, and he was relieved to see that a photograph accompanied each name, so no one could easily slip in. Satisfied, Hannibal gave the list back to Jack, and Jack excused himself for the night. He said he might call to discuss the case, but he would let Will relax first.

As soon as Jack left, Will gripped the front of Hannibal’s shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. Will’s hands gripped the back of his head, keeping the doctor down with him. Hannibal cupped Will’s cheek with his hand, stroking his cheek with his thumb. When Will bit his lower lip, he ran his hand down Will’s chest. Will kissed Hannibal’s cheek and neck, leaving the doctor to kiss Will’s forehead.

“I’m so relieved,” Hannibal murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Will said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He cupped Hannibal’s cheeks before kissing him again. Hannibal kept his eyes open slightly, watching Will carefully through his eyelashes. Will was terrified. “It’s okay,” Hannibal said against Will’s lips. “We’re okay. We’re fine.”

Will sat up, and Hannibal hugged him with one arm. Will gripped him tightly, kissing his neck and cheek again. “I could have screwed everything up.”

Nuzzling Will, Hannibal made sure he looked firmly at his friend as he said, “But you didn’t. We are okay. We survived.” When Will didn’t look satisfied, Hannibal added, “Except for your hair. It didn’t survive. I hope you don’t look too ugly as it grows back in. There might be some bald patches where the scars are.”

Will laughed sharply. He was scared, clinging to any sign of happiness. “It’s all right,” Hannibal repeated. “We’re all right.”

Slipping out of his shoes, Hannibal took off his sling and sat behind Will in the hospital bed. With his legs on either side of Will’s legs, he wrapped his arms around him, being gentle with the cast so it wouldn’t accidentally hurt Will. He kissed the side of Will’s head and leaned Will back against him. Rubbing Will’s chest, he repeated that everything was fine, that they were fine.

He gradually felt Will relax against him. Will’s breaths steadied. “What do you think we would be doing right now if we hadn’t gotten into an accident?”

“We would be sitting in your house, I suppose.”

“I forgot to mention how nice your new sheets are,” Will said, running his fingers against Hannibal’s legs. “Very comfortable to sleep in.”

“I’m glad you like them.”

“What else would we be doing?”

“How do you usually spend your evenings?”

Will shrugged. “Training the dogs. Working on fishing lure. Reading.”

“You would be reading and I’d be rubbing your feet.”

“Pampering me.”

“I would be jealous because the book is getting more attention than me. So I would do what I could to regain that attention.”

“What if a foot rub wasn’t enough?”

“Will, I do not want to discuss things that will ultimately result in me wanting to have sex with you in a hospital room. There is someone right outside of that door.”

Will smiled. Hannibal rubbed his chest.

“Just tell me about it,” Will said, his voice low. “I could use the distraction.”

Hannibal chuckled before he continued, “Well, you would be reading in the nude, of course.”

“I hate reading with clothes on,” Will said.

“So once I realized your feet weren’t getting me anywhere, I would trace my fingers up your legs and thighs, nice and slow.”

“I’m certain my book is more interesting than that.”

“I would kiss the inside of your thighs and, wait, are you reading on your back or on your stomach?”

Will considered it for a moment. “Stomach,” he said.

Hannibal continued, “I would rub your delicious ass, and I would spread your ass cheeks as I kissed your spine. I’d slowly run my hand between your ass cheeks, teasing you, before reaching down to rub your testicles.” Hannibal watched Will close his eyes lick his lips, and he felt Will’s body press up against him. He could feel his own erection throbbing against his leg. Hannibal continued, “I’d keep one hand on your shaft, not stroking it, just holding it, while the other hand squeezed and stroked your testicles while my thumb rubbed between your ass cheeks.”

Hannibal kissed Will’s neck, and Will gently traced circles on Hannibal’s legs. Rubbing Will’s chest, the doctor continued, “I would kiss down the curve of your back, all while continuing the motion slowly and pressing my thumb against your asshole. Your body would move against the movement with pleasure with your back and ass arching against me, practically begging me to fuck you. Would I get your attention now, Will? Or would your brain continue to ignore what your body cannot?”

“You would have my attention,” Will replied.

Hannibal could see the rise in the sheets where he already had Will’s attention. Against Will’s ear, Hannibal whispered, “What would you say to me?”

“I’d ask where you had the lube,” Will said. “Do you have any on you now?”

“No.”

“Do you want to know what I would do if you did?” Will asked.

“Yes.”

Will said, “I would ask you to sit back in your chair, and when you did, I would unbutton your trousers and suck on you until you were hard.”

“I’m hard now.”

“Maybe you lost it moving from the bed to the chair. Just let me give you a blowjob, Hannibal.”

“Do you really enjoy it that much?”

“Yes,” Will said. “So I would suck on you, despite your protests and complaints. I’d spread some lubricant onto your hand, so you could finger my ass as I sucked on you.”

Hannibal rubbed up against Will, gripping his chest and kissing his neck.

Will continued, “I would probably groan against your erection, since your fingers are rather nimble and know the places to press to get me to do that sort of thing.”

Hannibal checked in his pocket for a condom and found one. Ripping the package open, Hannibal moved his hands under the sheets to put the condom onto Will’s erection. Will waited until Hannibal started to gently jerk him off before he continued, “I would stop sucking and put a condom on you, and I would jerk you off while spreading more lube on it. You’d probably buck into my hand, showing me how eager you are to pound into my ass.”

Hannibal kissed where Will’s neck and shoulder blade met, and Will gripped the doctor’s pants as he started to jerk him off rougher, tightening his fist around his shaft. His cast still pressed up against Will’s chest, pinning his friend against him.

“My hospital gown, as you know, leaves little to the imagination and offers you quite the entrance. So I wouldn’t need to take it off before I mounted you,” Will said. “The chair might groan a bit under our weight, but I would continue slowly on anyway, starting a simple rhythm to take more and more of your huge cock into my ass.

“I would try to be quiet, but you would feel so good it would be hard not to groan. You try to keep me quiet with kisses, but you start panting louder as I ride you harder, consistently taking all of your cock into my ass. You’d buck up against me and try not to gasp-“ Will’s voice cracked as Hannibal increased his pace again “but I wouldn’t slow down as your cock slammed into me again and again.”

Hannibal squirmed as his own erection ached, and Will’s body rubbed eagerly against his own, only teasing it further. Will licked his lips, bucking his hips against Hannibal’s quick, rough jerks. “Go on,” Hannibal said against his ear, desperately wishing his had full use of his other hand.

“I wouldn’t last,” Will said, panting and squeezing his eyes shut. “I would shoot my load across your suit, groaning a lot, probably. And you’d pound into me until you finished, maybe you’d stand me up and put me against the bed, and I’d wish I hadn’t put a condom on you so I could feel you fill my ass up. But don’t stop – keep going.”

Kissing Will’s neck again, Hannibal maintained his rhythm as Will squirmed and ground up against him. Will’s mouth opened, but no sound came out until he started panting again. With his other hand clutching Hannibal’s pants, his hand lightly touched Hannibal’s chin, leading him into a deep kiss. Will bit down on his lip as he came with a shudder, and Hannibal continued until he was certain Will had finished.

Hannibal took off the condom and wrapped it in several tissues before discarding it in the trash. He noticed Will finished cleaning up with several more tissues, and Hannibal took them from him when he was finished to keep his bleary-eyed friend from trying to toss them into the can. Hannibal’s erection strained against his pants, and he told himself it would fade soon, now that Will wasn’t teasing him so much.

He kissed Will again before standing next to the chair. Will settled into the bed. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and then turned to face Hannibal. “Do you have another condom?” he asked.

“I don’t think so, no.”

Slipping a finger into Hannibal’s pants’ pocket, Will pulled the doctor closer to him. He simply raised his brows. Hannibal shook his head, but Will gently positioned Hannibal in front of him. When Will started to unbutton Hannibal’s pants, Hannibal took Will’s hand away and kissed the back of it.

“I want to,” Will said.

“What if someone comes in?”

Will’s hesitation disappointed Hannibal. He wanted Will to damn them all and do it anyway. He wanted Will not to worry, to adore him completely without any fear of consequence. Will had a long way to go. Hannibal kissed Will’s palm and then his wrist, watching his friend slowly make a decision. Will’s eyes darted up to Hannibal at his light touches.

“You saw the schedule,” Will said. “How long do we have?”

Hannibal thought of lying so a nurse would walk in on them, but he wasn’t certain how Will would react to it. It could start to crack Will’s trust.

“Not long enough,” Hannibal said. “Ten minutes, tops.”

Will scoffed. “You’ll be done in ten minutes.”

He pulled his hand away from Hannibal’s and returned to unbuttoning his pants. Will’s confidence excited Hannibal, and he wished Will still had hair to grip. He fantasized about twisting one of his curls around his finger. “What if I’m not?” Hannibal asked.

“Then the secret’s out, if the nurse won’t keep it a secret.”

Taking out Hannibal’s erection, Will’s lips brushed against the underside of his shaft, kissing it near the base before running his tongue back up it. Hannibal shivered and touched Will’s shoulder, careful not to put pressure on any of his stitches or cuts.

“Jack might not let us flee together if he knows.”

“It’s more of a reason for us to go together,” Will said. He drew circles around the head of Hannibal’s erection with his finger. He kissed his shaft once more before he continued, “The downside is he’ll probably make me see another psychiatrist, since I’ve seen too much of you.”

Hannibal smiled down at Will, who looked up at him in that moment. “Don’t worry,” Will said. “I’m not going anywhere without you. I can barely function without you, and I can’t sleep without you. And if this illness – or whatever it is – is the thing that’s making me sick and I can recover from it, I’m sure as hell not going to leave you just as I’m getting better.”

Running his palm along Hannibal’s shaft, Will raised up on his knees to kiss Hannibal. With Will’s eyes closed, Hannibal was free to watch him. Will’s vocal loyalty relaxed him. He had what he wanted. His eyes shut as Will kissed him deeper, and he moved his hips as Will jerked him off faster. His hand lightly ran down Will’s spine. He opened his eyes slightly as Will broke the kiss to nuzzle him, and he saw Will’s blue eyes watching him. He pecked Will’s lips, and Will lowered himself back down on the bed to suck the head of his erection.

With his hand working the base of Hannibal’s erection, Will’s lips moved along his shaft with his tongue flicking and teasing the head of his cock. Hannibal let out a sharp breath and closed his eyes. He thought of Will imprisoned by the antlers, a perfect drop of blood crawling down his forehead. Will sucked him harder, already tasting him and eager to feel him finish. His other hand guided Hannibal’s hips against his rhythm, and he relished in the sound of Hannibal’s pants and the feeling of his body tensing against him.

Hannibal gripped Will’s back and moved his hips faster, throwing off Will’s rhythm. Will moved his hand upwards along Hannibal’s cock to keep from taking took much into his mouth, and Hannibal watched Will’s lips envelop his shaft, moving eager and quick. He bucked involuntarily, gritting his teeth as his climax began. His legs weakened as Will pressed his thumb just behind Hannibal’s testicles, gently squeezing them as he sucked his shaft and swallowed his orgasm. Hannibal shuddered against his friend despite himself, and his mouth stayed open though no sound came out.

When Will finished, he kissed Hannibal’s pelvis before putting his erection away and buttoning up his pants. Will relaxed back in bed as Hannibal pulled his chair close to the bedside, and he ran his hand across Will’s chest and he kissed him. Will’s fingers twisted into his hair, and Hannibal’s tongue explored his friend’s mouth. A string of saliva hung between their lips as they parted, and Hannibal kissed Will quickly again to break it. Will held Hannibal’s head in place, keeping the doctor’s forehead propped up against his own.

“I need to suck you off one of these days,” Hannibal murmured. “I imagine this hospital bed will be the ideal place for it, since we’re so limited with what we can do.”

Will rubbed the back of Hannibal’s neck with one hand. “I like there being some mystery still, some thing we save for a particularly special occasion.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“I feel like it’s asking too much,” Will said. “One time you’ll do me a huge favour, and you can pay me back by sucking my cock.”

“But what if I want to?” Hannibal asked. “What if I want to feel you come into my mouth?” He kissed Will again, running his fingers along Will’s neck. He wondered if part of Will knew what he was, and that’s why Will avoided it.

Will released Hannibal’s hair and moved one hand to the doctor’s chest, gently pushing him away. “I just don’t like the focus to only be on me,” Will said. “I won’t be comfortable if I’m just sitting there while you do all the work.”

Hannibal leaned against the bed, not quite ready to pull away from Will now that Will let him go. “And that’s the only reason?”

“Should there be another?” Will asked with a smile.

“I suppose not.”

Will leaned upwards to peck Hannibal again, and then Hannibal relaxed back in his chair. The two sat in a comfortable silence. Hannibal sipped the coffee, wishing he had gone back home to make his own, to keep from nodding off into sleep.

The first night was the hardest for Hannibal. Ian Wagner failed to enter the hospital room, and Hannibal received no impression that the man had even tried. The only nurses that entered were on the list, and everything went smoothly despite Hannibal worrying otherwise.

Hannibal cancelled his appointments as he spent the majority of the following days in Will’s hospital room to prepare both of them for the move. The time he spent away from the hospital he used to prepare meals for the both of them and to pack and make phone calls. He did note, however, the smell of Alana Bloom’s perfume on some occasions when he entered the room after leaving for a long period, but Will didn’t talk about her.

He replaced the carpet in his office to make sure no signs of Abigail Hobbs remained, but it was under the guise of upkeep. Will’s place would stay uninhabited, but Hannibal decided to sell his properties so he could afford to live in a nicer house down south. He looked at various advertisements, and he ran options by Will.

“Don’t you think we’re moving a little fast?”

“How do you mean?” Hannibal asked.

“You’re looking at houses for us to live in together.”

Hannibal shrugged. “Even if we weren’t lovers, I would recommend the same thing so someone can keep an eye on you.”

“So you’re babysitting me.”

“I like to think of myself as a sexual servant,” Hannibal said with a small smile. “But I do want to know you’re safe, and it will be more affordable if we live together.”

“I could stay in a hotel room.”

“Not with your sixty-five dogs.”

“I don’t have sixty-five dogs, but you made your point, Hannibal. A house is better for them.”

Hannibal handed Will his tablet and showed him pictures of a house he looked at online. “It’s right on the beach, and it’s a fairly large property so we shouldn’t have too many prying eyes.”

“Beach sex is not comfortable,” Will said. “You get sand in a lot of places you don’t want it in.”

Hannibal sighed. “I meant for your strays and for fishing, Will. There’s even a dock if you wanted to buy a boat. You really need to get your mind away from having sex with me all the time. I won’t be able to put out every day of the week.”

“You called yourself a sexual servant not even two minutes ago, Hannibal.”

“Even so, I agree that beach sex is not comfortable. But I will not protest against boat sex.”

“How am I going to afford a boat?”

“I didn’t say we were going to buy a boat right away. It can be a goal,” Hannibal said. “I am merely brainstorming. I like this property and I’m trying to explain why it would be appealing to you.”

“That house is too big.”

“Room for your strays.”

“Room for your ego.”

“You wound me,” Hannibal said. “I thought of running my practice out of the home. There’s a side entrance we could use as an entrance to my office, and that way I’ll be around to watch the place in case anyone suspicious comes sniffing around. It also means your strays will have someone around more often.”

“You’re not going to let me say ‘No,’ are you, Dr. Lecter?”

“I’ll admit I already mentally redecorated the house.”

“It’s going to need some serious renovations, and that dock hardly looks stable,” Will said. “What if we’re not even there for that long?”

“What if we love it there and never leave?”

Will sighed and repositioned himself in bed. He handed Hannibal the tablet back and raised his new glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. Hannibal said, “Is something else bothering you?”

“I am moving to a new place to escape a killer, I’m changing jobs, and I’m moving in with my boyfriend who I’ve barely been dating a week – and who I haven’t even gone on a formal date with. Plus, if Jack Crawford finds out about the relationship, I’ll have to jump through even more hoops just to stay with him.”

“I prefer the term lovers.”

“Hannibal, this is really stressful. I don’t know if I can move into a house that will require so much work on top of everything.”

“Do you even want to move in with me?”

Will didn’t respond. He liked living alone, but he also liked Hannibal running the day-to-day and curling up with him at night. He thought of Hannibal washing dishes in nothing but an apron. He remembered how the doctor’s goose bumps felt against his fingers.

Hannibal was also uncertain about moving in with Will. It would clearly make his recreational activities more difficult, but he didn’t see another way to properly control Will’s day-to-day life. “What if we had our own offices?” Hannibal asked. “We each pick a room, and the other one can’t enter without receiving permission from the other.”

“You sound like a serial killer,” Will said without smiling.

“Virginia Woolf said that for a woman to write fiction, she needed a room with a lock and key.”

“We are not women writing fiction.”

“I have to write psychology papers,” Hannibal said. “I don’t want your strays barging in while I’m trying to work, nor do I want you hiding under my desk so that when I sat down you’d give me a blowjob.”

“Are you sure you don’t want that?”

“Not while I’m trying to work, Will.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Will said with a smile.

“I also don’t want strays in the bedroom,” Hannibal said. “I don’t want them barking while I’m trying to make love to you, and I don’t want dog hair all over our sheets.”

“This is a lot that you want.”

“I’m trying to be upfront and honest, Will. What do you want? What are you worried about?”

Will leaned back in bed and thought for a moment. He wanted Hannibal. He wanted his strays. He wanted to stop seeing things, and he wanted to stop having nightmares. It unnerved him that Hannibal wanted his own space, though he understood completely why he did. But his foolish nightmare came back to him, the one where Hannibal was the creature.

“What room would you have to yourself?” Will asked.

“My office,” Hannibal said. “I’d need some degree of privacy there anyway, and you wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally walking in on me with a patient. It was just an idea for you, though. It would benefit me, of course, but it’s not completely necessary. I just thought you might like to have your own space free from me – that maybe you worried about losing some of your agency with me.”

Will nodded. For some reason he thought Hannibal would pick the basement, but making his office off-limits without permission made perfect sense.

“All right,” Will said. “Okay.”

“Did I just make things better or worse for myself?”

“I don’t know,” Will said. “I just don’t know about this whole situation. But, yes, okay, get the house. If I hate it and I hate you, I can leave or build a fort in my private room. Just make sure the place is liveable. I don’t want to move the dogs too many times and confuse them.”

“What room do you want?”

“Any with a window that faces the beach,” Will said.

Hannibal flipped through pictures and then handed Will the tablet. Will looked at a room, clad in ugly yellow wallpaper, with an indention where three large windows took up a large portion of the wall. The indentation was filled with a bench with chipped white paint. Even with the picture, Will could see the view of the beach.

“We could rip out the bench and replace it with a desk,” Hannibal said. He flipped through several other pictures of the room and said, “But there’s also another window here that gets a decent view of the beach. We could put your desk there as well if you want to keep the bench.”

“Do the windows open?”

“They do.”

Will flipped back to the picture of the bench and the window. He thought of himself sitting there, still battered and bandaged, breathing in the salty air alone. He would hug his knees up to his chest and just look out. Maybe he would see the strays playing near the water. He thought of Hannibal in an uncharacteristic t-shirt and khaki shorts, walking barefoot in the sand and watching the strays play in the water. Hannibal didn’t turn around to look at him, but Will still got a view of the doctor’s profile looking out over the water.

Will could already hear the crashing waves and the barking. He heard Hannibal whistle to the dogs to draw them away from the water. A hallucination that didn’t frighten him. When he looked back at Hannibal, he could see the tan on his skin with his blond hair grown out to be whipped by the ocean wind.

Will considered how strange it was that Hannibal had suddenly rooted himself so thoroughly into his thoughts. The doctor had become a fixture in his life equally quick – as soon as he trusted him, he became a regular confidant, not only with work but also with his personal life. He always depended on Hannibal to be there, and he always was. Before he thought of the space between them, an idle thought of Hannibal comforting him physically, but it was never a terribly serious thought. And now there was romance, there was feeling Hannibal’s body grinding and sliding against his own. There were his arms coiling around him in the terrifying nights. And during the day he considered Hannibal’s opinions in the way he behaved and the suggestions he made.

Maybe it wasn’t strange at all. Maybe they just fit perfectly together, like they were both puzzle pieces lost under the sofa for years, and they had suddenly found a way to connect together.

“Are you all right, Will?”

“Perfect,” Will said, handing Hannibal the tablet. “That’s the room I want.”

Hannibal looked normal again, and Will gripped his tie to pull him down for a kiss.

Things moved quickly for Hannibal while Will’s progress stayed slow. Other doctors worked on Will’s condition, and Alana made sure to keep Hannibal out of the loop. Once Alana started stepping on his toes to help Will regain his good health, Hannibal decided to move down early with the strays to start renovating the house. Jack assured him Will would remain under close watch, and that nothing would happen to him. Hannibal mentioned to Jack that Ian Wagner was a patient of his, and it would be inappropriate for him to work on Will. Jack nodded, though he did say he wasn’t sure why a surgeon who specialized in hearts would spend any time with him.

As the work piled up because of Will and the move, Hannibal finally went to see Dr. Du Maurier. He entered her living room, unbuttoning his suit jacket as he took his seat across from her. The pair watched each other for a moment. Sighing, Hannibal finally said, “Will Graham and I have entered into a romantic relationship.”

Dr. Du Maurier offered Hannibal a knowing nod, but she said nothing further.

“It’s going really well,” Hannibal continued. “I don’t think I realized something was missing from my life until this happened. He makes me happy.”

Dr. Du Maurier thinned her lips.

“Feel free to be frank with me,” Hannibal said.

“I don’t understand your attraction to Will Graham,” she said. “Aside from the obvious ethical problems, I get the impression that you might just be attracted to the idea of someone depending on you completely.”

“I always stated that I thought I had found a friend in Will.”

“I recall.”

“Alana Bloom managed to find out what was wrong with him. It’s anti-MDA insiphilitus. So he will not be depending on me once he gets through it,” Hannibal said.

“Because we know that’s the only issue Will Graham has,” Dr. Du Maurier said.

Hannibal watched the smile in the corner of her lips. Hannibal pulled a notebook out of his pocket and opened it on her coffee table. He drew out a pen as well, and he drew one circle on each blank page. One circle he filled in, the other he left empty.

“Let’s call the filled-in circle chaos and the empty circle order,” Hannibal said. “Each live on their own page and, while they are separate entities, they rely on each other. Chaos often drifts into order and order often drifts into chaos, and they rely on each other to define themselves. The middle ground gets no definition, though both affect each other in the middle ground.”

“I suppose you could say the same thing about good and evil,” Dr. Du Maurier said, and Hannibal watched her blue eyes burrow into him for a moment. She said, “So you’re saying Will Graham is chaos and you’re order. For both of your professions, you need to reach into each other’s domains, but at the end of the day, he’s lost in chaos and you’re comfortable in order. Are you simply trying to explain to me that opposites attract, Hannibal? That they need each other to exist or else their definitions become meaningless?”

Hannibal pulled the two pages together and held them up to the light. Dr. Du Maurier saw that the circles almost completely merged together. Hannibal closed his notebook and put it back into his pocket before saying, “I meet a lot of people whose minds are chaos, but Will’s the only one who can see perfectly into my order – who understands it and appreciates it without trying to pull me into his chaos.”

“This still sounds like a professional attraction.”

“You once said I wear a well-tailored person suit.”

“Yes.”

“Will’s the only person I’ve met who has the potential to take it off and still appreciate what’s underneath.”

“Because while he’s in chaos, he can still see order,” Dr. Du Maurier said. “Or are you saying that your suit is order, and on the inside you’re chaos?”

“My point is they’re not completely different, but people have a hard time perceiving their similarities and appreciating their similarities as well as their differences.”

“Still much like good and evil,” she said with a smile that was a touch too knowing.

“Are you concerned that I’m confusing my professional attraction to Will with a romantic attraction?” Hannibal asked. “Because, if you’d like, I can explain why I am physically attracted to him. I can explain the small things he does that are impossibly endearing. I can explain, in the most cliché ways, the way my body changes when I’m around him.”

“Why do you think Will is attracted to you?”

Leaning back in his chair, Hannibal smiled and smoothed out his tie. “Based on our bedroom activities, I can safely assume he desires me physically.”

“What else?”

“He says he feels safe with me.”

“Which is more or less something you should feel with your psychiatrist.”

Hannibal stiffened. “He says he feels like he can be himself with me.”

“I would repeat my previous phrase, but I think you already know that.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Dr. Du Maurier.”

“You’re self-conscious about your relationship with Will, or else you wouldn’t have avoided talking to me about it in the first place. You’re spending time trying to justify it to me rather than talking about you moving to another State or your recent car accident.”

“Would you care to sign my cast?”

“Hannibal, are you worried about your relationship with Will, or are you worried about what I think of it? Because if you care about him, damn what I think. But if on any level you think you might be building your relationship with Will on sand, we should discuss it.”

Hannibal sat for a moment, considering her words. He did fear what she thought of the relationship. He respected her and her counsel, and he didn’t want her to think that he’d run off with the first patient who waved his dick at him. But was there more than that? He spent a lot of time considering how to eat Will if things went sour. He planned to cover it up as a So-Called kill, but it would mean leaving his stomach in place and taking his heart instead.

How cliché.

“There are a lot of What-Ifs,” Hannibal said.

“What if you grow bored with him now that he’s on the mend?”

“No,” Hannibal said. “I am certain he will never be boring.”

“Even though he might not be working with the FBI anymore?”

Hannibal didn’t reply. He liked that Will was away from Ian Wagner, but he’d miss hearing about the other murders. The Tattler wasn’t quite the same.

Dr. Du Maurier continued, “What if he no longer desires you when he’s stable?”

Hannibal nodded, slowly. “He’s determined he will stay with me, we’ve discussed it before and it’s clearly something he worries I think about. But I hope he won’t stay with me just because of those promises. It’s a new relationship. We can’t assume we’ll be together forever before we’ve even gotten used to living with each other and spending our days together.”

“So this isn’t a large concern.”

“Not at this point, no,” Hannibal said. “We tend to talk things through together a lot, so long as it doesn’t sound like I am psychoanalyzing him, then he gets defensive.”

“So then are you simply concerned about being seen romantically involved with one of your patients?”

Hannibal considered it for a moment, not replying right away. It wasn’t a large concern, no, but it had entered his thoughts.

“You said potential,” Dr. Du Maurier said.

“I’m sorry?”

She continued, leaning forward, “You said Will has the potential to take off your person-suit and to appreciate what’s underneath.”

“Yes.”

“That means he hasn’t yet.”

“I suppose not.”

“Do you worry he won’t like what’s underneath?” Dr. Du Maurier asked.

If he didn’t, he would have to kill Will. The image of himself toasting the empty seat across from him came to him again. He wasn’t ready for that, not yet.

“Yes.”

“You wear the suit for a reason.”

“I do,” Hannibal replied.

“And if he doesn’t like what’s underneath, he will leave.”

“Yes,” Hannibal said. After a pause, he added, “And I will likely never meet another person with that potential.”

He didn’t say anything further, and when he looked at Dr. Du Maurier, he saw pity in her eyes. She leaned back in her chair. While she could see that the suit existed, he could tell if she suspected what was underneath and was not particularly fond of it. She felt bound to him – in the same way that Abigail Hobbs and Will Graham were bound to him. They held a secret together, and if she released him, the secret would be released with it. So she stayed a respectable distance away from what was underneath the suit without letting him go completely.

But what Hannibal didn’t understand, at least not yet, was why she was so afraid to let go when the secret only harmed him. He supposed it harmed her now, since she had kept quiet for so long, but it would be nothing compared to what he would face.

“Do you want to discuss this further?”

“No,” Hannibal said, offering her a smile. “I don’t think the relationship is being built on sand. The concerns I carry are natural for new relationships. I’ll tell you about the accidents, and I will leave out the sexually explicit details.” With a wider smile, he jokingly added, “Unless you would care to hear them.”

“I think I’m okay,” she said, offering a teasing smile in return. “Tell me what happened.”

The rest of the appointment went smoothly, but Dr. Du Maurier’s concerns lingered with him. He had expected her to throw him off balance, and he worried she would dig too deeply into the relationship and remove some of his confidence. And she had. He didn’t, however, regret the appointment. It just reassured him that his concerns were real and that he wasn’t overreacting.

Hannibal Lecter sat in his car in Dr. Du Maurier’s driveway. He opened his cell phone and called the hospital to talk to Will. Will picked it up on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“How did your appointment go?”

“Will, I don’t want to scare you. I just want you to know that you are a beautiful person, and I doubt there is another person in the world like you.”

“Uh, okay.”

Hannibal sighed on the line.

“Are you all right?” Will asked. “Did something happen?”

“No, no,” Hannibal said. “I’m just worried you’ll leave me once you start spending more time with me.”

“I won’t,” Will said. “Listen, Alana’s here.”

“So you can’t tell me how much you like sucking my cock.”

“A lot,” Will said.

Hannibal could hear the smile in his friend’s voice, and he smiled as well. “I won’t ask more questions and make you uncomfortable.”

“If you’re sure,” Will said.

“I am. I’ll stop by before I leave. See you.”

“Hannibal, I think the same thing.”

Hannibal paused, and he was surprised at the heat that rose to his cheeks. “You think I’m a beautiful person and there might not be another person quite like me?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve met plenty like me before.”

“Trust me, I haven’t.”

Hannibal smiled to himself. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yep.”

Hannibal hung up. He supposed Will was right. Will hadn’t met anyone like him before.


	6. Chapter 6

Will Graham reflected on the events of the past year with Hannibal in this house as he watched the sun set over the beach. His hair had grown back, though he wore it shorter to fight the heat, and a light beard covered the scars the elk left. The physical scars were easy to hide, and he had improved at hiding the internal ones. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the wall and listened to the sound of his dogs barking overwhelming the soft waves.

Breath brushed against his neck, something warm pressed against his hand. He thought of the night the creature brushed its nose against his hand when he slept walk in Wolf Trap. It seemed so long ago. He smiled as lips pecked his neck, and he felt fingers twine in with his own.

“You haven’t finished getting dressed.”

“I wanted to let the dogs out one last time before we lock them up in my room,” Will replied.

Hannibal’s hand moved to his chest as the doctor kissed where his neck and shoulder blade met. Will’s hand pressed against his groin, gently squeezing it. Nuzzling the side of Hannibal’s tanned face, Will murmured, “Let’s cancel the party.”

Hannibal pulled away instantly. “No.”

Will opened his eyes to find Hannibal clad it in a neat, black suit. He wore his blond hair longer, but had still slicked it back in a familiar fashion for the guests. Will’s eyes drifted back to the shore as Hannibal watched him. The doctor began to tie his blue tie. “You always look impossibly sexy in a suit,” Hannibal murmured.

Hooking his fingers through Hannibal’s belt loops, Will pulled him closer. “Wouldn’t you rather whisk me upstairs and make love to me in this suit?” Will asked. He raised himself up to brush his lips against his partner’s. “Cancel the party.”

“Will Graham, it would be incredibly rude to cancel on our guests at the last minute,” he sharply said and leaned away from Will. “You already used that trick to get out of going to the opera with me twice. It won’t work when I have ten guests counting on me.”

Will didn’t respond. He looked back over the ocean and tried to tell himself that it would all be over in a few hours. Hannibal’s arms wrapped loosely around him. “You will be fine,” Hannibal said. “Everyone will see why I adore you after spending a minute with you.”

“I’ll feel like a lab rat on display.”

“They’re not psychiatrists, and they don’t know who you are,” Hannibal said. “I haven’t told them anything about what you’ve been through, and you won’t either.”

Will leaned into Hannibal’s chest and closed his eyes. Smiling, Hannibal propped his head on top of Will’s and squeezed him. “Everyone just knows you as my partner.”

“The diesel mechanic. The boring simpleton who doesn’t go to parties. The dog hoarder.”

“The woman I sat next to you loves fishing and sailing,” Hannibal said. “You’ll have things to talk to her about. She’ll like you.”

“Where are you sitting?”

“We’re sitting at the heads of the table. I’ll be across from you.”

“Couldn’t I sit next to you?” Will asked. Pressing his hand against Hannibal’s groin, he continued, “I could give you a hand job under the table.”

Hannibal lifted Will’s hand away and started, “Will-“

“Will Graham?”

The second voice was female. Will pulled away from Hannibal and saw a familiar figure crossing the beach. “Beverly?”

She smiled and waved. Her heels sunk into the sand, and her other hand sat in a light bomber jacket pocket. She said, “I tried knocking at the front, but no one answered the door.”

“You shouldn’t be using his full name,” Hannibal said.

“I remember, Hans,” Beverly coolly replied, walking up to the porch where Hannibal and Will stood.

“I hate your name,” Will said. “I can’t believe I have to call you it all evening.”

“What would you have chosen?” Hannibal asked. “Winston?”

“Yes.”

“Named me after your dog,” Hannibal said, scoffing.

“What are you two all dressed up for?” Beverly asked.

“A dinner party,” Will said. “You should come.”

Hannibal said, “She can’t come. There are not enough seats.”

“I thought Alana and Jack cancelled, isn’t that two open seats?”

“I invited other people, Will,” Hannibal said. “I’m sorry, Miss Katz, I don’t mean to be rude.”

“We can squeeze her in beside me.”

“How would it look to have me at one end of the table and you and her at the other end? Everyone will think I’m dating a straight man.”

“I can’t come anyway,” Beverly quickly replied to stop any conflict from arising. “I was hoping I could have a quick word with Will.”

“I have to check on the food in the kitchen anyway,” Hannibal said. “I trust you won’t give him an excuse to ditch my dinner party?”

“I won’t,” Beverly said. “He’s staying here with you, don’t worry.”

Hannibal just offered her a nod and went back into the house. Will leaned back against the wall, and Beverly folded her hands behind herself as she followed suit. “Everything okay?”

“Great. I just don’t want to go to this party.”

“I’d hate to just cut to the chase-“

“Should you even be here?”

“No,” Beverly said.

He turned his head to look at her, and she smiled. “You look good, Will,” she said. “Healthy, I mean. And I like what you’ve done with your hair. The side-part is a nice touch.”

“Hannibal styled it earlier,” Will said, sighing. “What did you come here for?”

“Did Jack call you?”

“No,” Will said, straightening up. “I haven’t heard from him in months.”

“Really?”

Will nodded.

“Three new bodies popped up that fits the Chesapeake Ripper’s M.O.,” she said. “But they don’t match the So-Called at all. So if the So-Called and the Ripper are the same people, he’s given up hunting you. And if they’re not, then the Ripper isn’t worried about stepping on the So-Called’s toes or is filling the void the So-Called left.”

“And did the So-Called ever dump off a third body?”

“No,” she said. “There were only two. I kept expecting to find one in a hospital bed somewhere, but nothing ever came up. Just these three new victims.”

“Are you here just to tell me that?”

“No, I was in the area working on a different case,” Beverly said. “We are all here, but we’re flying back in a couple of hours to get some work done. I didn’t want to mention this on the phone.” She lowered her voice and continued, “Has Hannibal been back to Baltimore recently? I know he sometimes visits his psychiatrist-“

“How do you know that?”

Beverly smiled. “You told me,” she said. “I’m not trying to attack you or him, Will.”

“No,” Will said. “The last time he visited Dr. Du Maurier was two months ago, I think. When did these bodies appear?”

“Just over the past two weeks,” Beverly said. “I don’t think it’s anything. I just wanted to check, and I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“Do I look in danger?”

“You look frustrated,” Beverly said. “But living with someone is always going to be hard. It’s whether or not you can make it work despite how hard it is that matters.”

Will didn’t reply. He really didn’t want to meet all of Hannibal’s high-society friends.

Beverly said, “I’m sorry if I upset you, but you know I had to ask.”

Will smiled. “How long has it been since we spoke?”

She shrugged. “Three months, maybe. You were helping me on the Riverside case.”

Will nodded. “We’ve never been really social, have we?”

“No. Do you want to be?”

After a beat of silence, Will said, “I haven’t heard from Jack or Alana in months. I understand that they have their own lives, but I can never get through to them and they never call here.”

“You’re feeling isolated.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Will said. “Hannibal already has all these pretentious friends, and that’s fine. I’ve never really needed anyone before. I just thought Jack or Alana would come to this party so I wouldn’t have to wade through this night alone.”

“I’m sorry I can’t make it,” Beverly said. She grabbed a notebook out of her pocket, wrote something down, and then ripped off the piece of paper. She handed it to Will and said, “This is my cell number. You can call me, text me, whatever. If I don’t answer it right away, it’s because I’m elbow deep in a body, but I will reply later. Even if you’re just sending me a text because you saw a three legged dog, I’ll reply. Okay?”

Will absently looked at the paper. “I have one of those now.”

“Really?”

“People leave their dogs on the beach all the time,” he said. “It’s disgusting, really.”

“At least they have you to take care of them,” Beverly said. “Hopefully I’ll get time to meet him next time..”

Will put the note into his pocket. “Thanks for that,” he said, smiling weakly. “I’ll call.”

“I hope you do,” she replied. “I have to head out to catch my flight. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Definitely,” Will said. “After I’ve spent my evening feeling like a monkey in a suit.”

Beverly started walking away, but she turned around and asked, “Does he make you happy?”

“Very.”

“Is this night important to him?”

Will paused. “I get your point, Bev.”

She gave him a smile before turning around again. Will called the dogs back and filed back inside with them. With several apologizes to his dogs, Will locked them in his office to keep them away from their guests. He then went into the kitchen to see Hannibal preparing the meals. The doctor started laying out the salad on the plates, already prepared so he would only need to bring it out to his guests. Will talked him out of hiring help for this party, so the two men were alone in the kitchen.

Watching Hannibal’s hands work, Will asked, “Where was that conference you went to?”

“New Haven.”

“How long ago was that?”

Hannibal shrugged. “Two weeks ago,” he said. “Somewhere around there. I showed you the pictures, do you remember?”

“I remember.”

“Do you want to taste anything?”

“No,” Will said. “I’m losing my appetite.”

“What did Beverly say?”

“Nothing.”

“I miss our talks about your old work, Will,” Hannibal said.

“There’s nothing to say.”

Hannibal stopped, and Will’s eyes rose to meet his partner’s. “Come here and kiss me,” Hannibal said. When Will made no motion to move, Hannibal continued, “It’s just a few hours, and you can talk about fishing all night. After that, I’ll take you upstairs and make love to you.”

“I think we’ll need to discuss a few things first.”

“I don’t understand,” Hannibal said.

There was a knock on the door, and, with a sigh, Will said, “I suppose I’ll greet our guests while you finish up in here.”

“I would appreciate it.”

Will offered him a half-smile and left the kitchen. Hannibal stared at the salad for a moment, realizing that Beverly talked about the Ripper and Will suspected him. But his alibi was set and perfected. Will accusing him would only make him look paranoid, and he could use it to his advantage in the long run. It was relief to not have to worry about killing Will, not yet.

Hannibal could tell Will did not enjoy the dinner party. His friend sunk low in his seat at the table, his glasses only emphasizing his frustrated brow. He was like a child who had been told there wouldn’t be any ice cream after the meal, and the expression was a familiar one that Will saved specifically for Freddie Lounds. His gave their guests short answers and asked few questions. Even Hannibal’s fishing enthusiast friend was a bit snubbed, and he couldn’t help but notice that the guests talked amongst themselves rather than with Will.

Childish. Stubborn. Rude.

Hannibal’s lips thinned as he saw Will draw out his cell phone to text near the end of the meal. Will sent one, received one, sent another in reply, and then put the phone away. He didn’t apologize to the person who spoke with him.

A headache tied knots inside of Will’s head. His vision narrowed as he tried to listen to the conversations around him, and his head throbbed as he tried to piece together replies. His mind wouldn’t leave the memory of Hannibal returning home from his conference. He was already home when Will arrived home from work, and Will found the doctor putting food away in the kitchen. Hannibal showed him pictures almost instantly, as well as various business cards, signatures, and other things he obtained while on his trip.

Proof that he actually attended the convention. An alibi. No reason to doubt.

He looked across the table to Hannibal who failed to hide – no, refrained from hiding – his displeasure with him. He could have hided it if he wanted to, Will had enough arguments with Hannibal to know that, but Hannibal wanted Will to know he didn’t approve of his behaviour.

Control freak. Fake. Pretentious.

But what was Will supposed to say to these people? The woman who liked fishing just bought the high-end lures and rods – she had no interest in making her own, and they argued about the best locations and methods. Will got the impression she purposely pushed his buttons.

He knew he was being sized up. Every one of the guests picked him to pieces, deciding why he wasn’t good enough for their beloved psychiatrist friend Hans.

Will considered all the ways to excuse himself from the dinner, but he decided to wait it out. Hannibal brought out several courses throughout the night, including dessert, and once the plates were all empty and cleared, the night slowly wound down. When their guests started lingering, Will excused himself in order to let his dogs outside.

He sat on the back porch, listening to the laughing and talking inside. He smiled and let the sound of the waves overcome those noises from inside. The night sky seemed endless over the ocean, but clouds covered the stars and moon. The porch light was the only light. He didn’t know or check how much time had passed before Hannibal came out and sat next to him.

“Why did you show me all the pictures when you came back from New Haven?” Will asked.

“Because I thought you’d be interested in what I had done. Apparently I was wrong.”

“Did you just stay in the city?”

“Yes,” Hannibal said. “Will, I don’t understand what your point is. I invited you to go with me. I wanted you there with me.”

“I couldn’t take time off work,” Will said. “Beverly told me Jack never heard about the party at all. Did you even invite him?”

“No.”

“What about Alana?”

“I did not invite her either.”

“So you just wanted me to suffer,” Will said. “I could feel how much they disapproved of me.”

“I think they could feel how much you disapproved of them,” Hannibal sharply replied. “I did not invite Alana and Jack because I felt it would complicate things too much. How would I explain them to the others?”

“You could have known them from work.”

“And why would they be so chummy with you?”

“Previous dinner parties,” Will said with a sneer.

Hannibal stiffened next to Will, straightening out his posture. While Will’s tie had been loosened and his hair had been mussed up, Hannibal still looked prim and proper as if he was expecting more guests. Will wasn’t sure why, but it pissed him off. Maybe it was the headache.

“So you were rude to our guests because I didn’t invite our friends that a serial killer could have followed to find us and because I took pictures while I was in New Haven?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Well, let’s complicate things, Will. How about I explain why I am angry with you? Starting with your immature behaviour at this dinner party which, as far as I am concerned, is inexcusable. If you had any kind of manners, you would have explained your anger with me after the guests had left. Or, hell, yelled at me across the table so the guests had a story to tell and understood that your behaviour was anger with me and not with them.”

“I didn’t want this party,” Will said. “You should respect the type of person I am and not involve me in these things.”

“Oh yes, let’s talk about the quiet fisherman, Will. The man who only leaves the house for work. The man who lets his partner go alone to every single event. The man who won’t sit for two hours at an opera for his partner, but who will sit outside for two hours to watch his dogs play on the beach instead. The man who expects his partner to keep giving while giving nothing himself. The man who spends an entire evening pouting when he doesn’t want to go to one party that he doesn’t even need to leave the house for. One single party.”

“You know the type of person I am,” Will said.

“And I adore you,” Hannibal said. “I love rubbing your feet on the sofa. I love reading while you fish. I love sitting on the beach with you. I love soaking in the tub with you. I love carving up whatever fish you catch. I’m just not sure you even like me anymore.”

Will laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“You won’t even go shopping with me.”

“That’s because you go to ten different places. The store with the best cheese. The store with the best sausage. The store with the best eggs. It’s my whole afternoon.”

“Do you know how it feels to constantly go alone to these events? My friends pity me. Some of them thought I made you up – that I was just a lonely old queer. Now that they’ve met you, they’ll think we’re having problems or on the verge of breaking up. I’m not saying you have to go to everything. I just don’t understand why it’s so hard to do anything with you.

“I’ll admit,” Hannibal continued, “the first time you agreed to go to the opera with me, I got caught up in how you looked in the suit and we missed it. But the second time you initiated it. You knew you could manipulate me.”

“Me? I’m the master manipulator?” Will asked, laughing again. “This conversation was about you lying to me, and now you’re trying to make me feel guilty about not going with you to the god damn opera.”

“You tried to make yourself the victim,” Hannibal said, “after you insulted all of my friends.”

Will said, “You’re a total control freak. If I put the dishes away myself, you rearrange them anyway. You reorganized all of our bookshelves. I never know where anything is in my own home.”

“So is this it?” Hannibal asked. “Are we on the verge of a break-up?”

Will sighed and slipped his hands behind his glasses to rub his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, he noticed Hannibal had been staring at him, waiting for him to respond. Will didn’t.

Hannibal leaned his arms on his thighs, tucking his hands between his legs. He looked back out over the ocean. Will thought about how handsome he looked. The wind had blown several of his hairs out of place, and under the porch light, Will could see the bags beneath the doctor’s eyes. Will wanted nothing more than to kiss his cheek.

“I know we had a rough patch when you first moved in,” Hannibal said, “but you told me what I did that upset you and I gave you space and I tried to change. I didn’t realize you noticed that I moved the dishes or rearranged the books and if I had known it would hurt your feelings, I wouldn’t do it. But I’m just trying to explain what upsets me to offer you the same opportunity. I like cooking for people. I like having parties. I like dressing up and going to events. I don’t always need you on my arm, but it would be nice if you came once and a while. I want everyone to see what a handsome, intelligent man I somehow managed to capture.”

He looked over and smiled at Will. Hannibal continued, “I want to show you off.”

“I’m hardly show material.”

“I disagree.”

Will stared intently at his hands.

Hannibal said, “It also hurts my feelings when I prepare a meal for you, put it in the fridge, leave you a note about how to reheat it, and then come home to see you ordered takeout instead.”

“You’re mad that I won’t eat your leftovers?”

“Sometimes I make the food from scratch for you,” Hannibal said. “It’s important what you put in your body.”

“I can’t pronounce half the things you put in my body,” Will said. “Sometimes I like greasy food that’s bad for me.”

“And sometimes it’s okay,” Hannibal said, “but it hurts my feelings when I went out of my way to make you something and when I come home I find parts of it in the dog dishes.”

Will thought this made Hannibal seem more controlling, but he held his tongue. He watched Hannibal smooth out his hair and his lips part as he exhaled.

“Do you want to leave me?” Will asked.

“I want it to feel like you care about me,” Hannibal said. “When you were sick we talked about how I wasn’t going to just be your solid ground and how you were going to make the effort for me. Will, right now I feel like I’m just the ground you walk on, and as much as I love kissing your feet, I still feel like I’m getting trampled.”

“I can’t change.”

“You’ve said that,” Hannibal said, “and that’s not what I’m asking for, Will.”

“So if I don’t go with you to a couple of operas and fake smile and fake laugh with your fake friends at a dinner party, you’ll leave me?”

“No,” Hannibal said. “I doubt I ever would leave you. I am just letting you know I am tired of being treated this way, and I will not tolerate you treating my friends this way. At the next party, you can stay in your office with your strays.”

“I’d have more fun.”

“We all would,” Hannibal said.

Will didn’t understand why that comment hurt.

Hannibal said, “If you want to be in a relationship where we slowly spend less and less time together, where our lovemaking becomes more hurried and distant, where we sleep on entirely different sides of the bed and never touch, where our conversations over dinner become more silent until one of us starts eating somewhere else, then by all means, Will, just continue with the way you are going. In another year, you won’t have to worry about me coming outside to talk to you about how you make me feel. I will just stand in the kitchen and watch you while I do the dishes, thinking about the man I fell in love with.”

Will looked at Hannibal. He heard the word. Love.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Hannibal said. “You can push me, you can insult me, you can stab me, you can shoot me, you can slice my throat, you can accuse me of whatever your heart desires and I won’t leave. I am here. And when you sit on the sofa in the living room and put your feet in my lap, I will always rub them. And when you start shaking and sweating in the middle of the night, I will always whisper that everything is fine in your ear until you wake up.

“But I won’t follow you out to read while you fish. I won’t move to read in the same room as you. I won’t clean your fish. I won’t admire and compliment your tackle. I won’t prepare your meals on the days I won’t be home. I won’t help you wash your strays. And if I see a stray on the beach, I won’t come in and get you. I’ll let it wander off in the night alone.”

Hannibal stood up and loosened his tie. Will stared ahead. He counted to make sure all of his dogs were in his eye line.

“I think I am going to go to bed early. I don’t feel like doing dishes, and they can wait until tomorrow,” Hannibal said. He opened the back door and added, “My friends actually quite liked you, by the way. I apologized for your behaviour, but they mistook it as being broody rather than being rude. My fishing friend found you quite knowledgeable and was a little upset about how ignorant she must have sounded to you. She says she’ll do her research before she tries to go head to head with you again.”

“You’ll let bugs in if you leave the door open like that,” Will said.

Hannibal went inside and closed it. “Goodnight Will,” he said through the screen door.

Will propped his head up with his hands and let Hannibal’s words sink in. He thought Hannibal might have just been trying to dodge his questions about New Haven, but the more Hannibal spoke, the more Will realized he hadn’t noticed the problems brewing between them. It pissed him off that Hannibal was right; he had been taking advantage of him.

He remembered how much he felt like a lab rat when he first moved in with Hannibal. The doctor tried to organize everything in their home as well as their schedules. He would have set times to meet and to eat dinner. He would lay out clothes for Will to wear. He would throw out the socks with holes in them and buy him new ones without saying a word.

And Will would spend a lot of time in his office. He never unpacked anything. He would just lay on the floor and appreciate the chaos. He would hear Hannibal knock and would watch the doctor’s shadow under the door. He wouldn’t respond. He would count how long it would take for Hannibal to leave.

Each time Hannibal would wait longer. He didn’t give up.

Finally, one time when Hannibal knocked, he waited ten minutes. Will grew tired of counting in his head and used his watch. When the time elapsed, Hannibal said through the door, “Tell me what I’m doing wrong, Will. I don’t want you to hide in your own home.”

Will let him in, ignored the disgust on Hannibal’s face when he saw the mess, and he told him everything. He was surprised at how quickly Hannibal changed for him. He hardly reminded him about anything. He just became what Will asked for. And Will felt less like a patient and more like a partner.

And he hadn’t noticed that Hannibal had begun hiding away in his own room. When he went fishing several days before, he had told Hannibal through the door and hadn’t heard a response. He thought nothing of it. He liked when Hannibal read next to him; the doctor would often read aloud snippets of whatever he read that he thought Will would find interesting or funny. But he could fish alone and listen to the waves.

He just didn’t want to. Not every time.

While Hannibal had waited longer each time he knocked on Will’s door, Will waited less and less when he knocked on Hannibal’s. Will wondered what sort of person that made him. Did he not care about Hannibal, or was he too self-involved to notice something was wrong? He knew he cared about Hannibal, but when Hannibal tried to explain his needs to him, he argued and fought with him.

He was in the wrong.

Will Graham stood up and called the dogs into the house. After taking off his shoes, he fed the dogs again before walking up to the bedroom. He entered the dark room, and when he closed the door behind him, he snuffed out the last sliver of light. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He saw Hannibal on one side of the bed, unmoving. He doubted the doctor was asleep.

Will moved to his side of the bed and took his tie and suit jacket off. He took off his glasses and socks. He felt Hannibal stir and took off his belt. He took off his pants and shirt. He looked at the pile on the floor and slipped under the sheets. He slid to Hannibal’s side of the bed and wrapped his arms around the doctor.

“I’m sorry.”

Hannibal didn’t reply.

“I know you’re not asleep.”

Hannibal turned around in Will’s arms and pressed his head against his friend’s chest. Will hugged him as Hannibal listened to his heartbeat. Will had noticed that, though he failed to understand why, Hannibal listened to his heartbeat when he was stressed or otherwise upset. Will stroked his hair.

“I’ll try,” Will said. “I’ll really try.”

Hannibal moved Will onto his back and kissed him. He spread Will’s legs and kissed him deeper, rubbing his hips against Will’s. Will responded in kind, eager to feel Hannibal’s quiet affection for him, to feel that they might be all right. He hooked his legs behind Hannibal’s back, twisting his fingers into Hannibal’s hair. Before kissing Will’s jaw, Hannibal moved his hips to grind his groin against Will’s. Will took off his shirt before helping Hannibal with his own. He pulled Hannibal down to kiss him again, desperate to feel that connection between them.

Watching Will through his eyelashes, Hannibal observed how his words affected his friend. He had expected it to be a slow drip. He didn’t expect Will to act so quickly, and it excited him that Will wanted so much to please him. They were just words, of course, but he assumed Will would hold true to them.

Hannibal broke the kiss to brush his lips against Will’s chest. Moving Will’s legs off of him, Hannibal kissed down Will’s stomach while stroking his friend’s cock through his underwear. With Will watching him, Hannibal pulled Will’s underwear down by his teeth and kissed the head of his erection. He licked down the underside of his shaft, and Will grabbed Hannibal’s hair to draw him back up for a kiss.

Hannibal pulled off Will’s underwear and then broke Will’s kiss to take off his own. Will grabbed the lubricant from the nightstand as Hannibal tossed his underwear off of the bed. Hooking his legs back around Hannibal, Will grabbed the back of the doctor’s head to pull him down again. He bit and then sucked Hannibal’s lower lip as he squeezed the lubricant onto his hand. Spreading the lubricant across Hannibal’s cock, Will encircled both of their erections with his hand and jerked them off together.

“No condom,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s lips. “Finish inside me.”

Delicious shivers rippled through Hannibal. Kissing Will’s neck, Hannibal slipped his hand against his friend’s to spread some lubricant onto his fingers. Will jerked them off faster while his other hand gripped the back of Hannibal’s neck. Hannibal pressed a finger into Will’s ass, working the opening quickly. Will’s toes curled against his back. Moving his hips against Will’s rhythm, Hannibal pumped his finger quickly, desperate to slam his cock into Will and feel his friend tighten around him.

Will kissed Hannibal again as Hannibal pressed a second finger in, curling them inside of Will. Will shivered and jerked them off faster. His thumb pressed against the head of Hannibal’s cock. Hannibal drew his fingers out of Will and pulled his head away so he could watch Will’s face in the darkness. Releasing his own erection, Will led Hannibal’s cock against his ass, pushing it in as Hannibal grabbed his hips. Hannibal pumped deeper into Will, trying to tell himself to slow down and be gentle. He loved that Will led his cock in, and he wanted to be fast and rough.

Will gripped Hannibal’s forearms, panting as Hannibal increased his pace. His erection throbbed against his stomach, and he closed his eyes to feel Hannibal sliding in him. He bucked against Hannibal to urge him to go faster, and Hannibal complied. He slammed his cock in its entirety into Will, holding it there as Will clenched his teeth. Hannibal wished he could turn on a light to see his friend’s expression clearly.

Hannibal started to pull back, but Will bucked back against him, tightening his legs around his back. So Hannibal kept his thrusts deep, watching Will in the darkness and fucking him faster. Pulling Will’s body back against his rhythm, Hannibal worried less about caution and focussed more on his orgasm. While he pounded into Will, he thought of him spattered in blood. He thought about biting into his shoulder and tasting him. He thought of him encaged and pierced by antlers. He let out a groan.

Will jerked himself off as Hannibal’s pants grew louder. He already felt himself spilling onto his fingertips, and he kept his pace slow as Hannibal pounded into his ass and made him shudder. He moaned and dug his nails into Hannibal’s arm, trying to keep his own rhythm slow. Hannibal watched the movements of Will’s hand and pulled his friend roughly against him as he started to climax. With his cock as deep as it would go, Hannibal shot his load with a groan, bucking his hips as he filled Will’s ass. Will shuddered against the sensation, and he came against his fingers and chest.

Hannibal lingered inside of Will, leaning down to kiss him. He pulled out as Will lightly touched his hair and ears. When Hannibal tried pulling away, Will leaned upwards to kiss him again. Hannibal stretched out next to Will, resting his hand on his friend’s chest. With his lips against Will’s, he murmured, “I’m just going to get a cloth to wipe you up.”

Will watched as Hannibal slipped out of the bed and navigated with ease through the darkness. He shielded his eyes as Hannibal turned on the connecting bathroom’s light, and Hannibal ran water over the cloth. He flicked the light back off and joined his friend in bed, wiping his chest and then his ass.

“I love it when you groan,” Will said as Hannibal kissed his ear and set the cloth on the nightstand. He continued, “You feel very present when you make noises like that.”

Without answering, Hannibal rolled both of them onto their sides and the doctor curled Will’s body against his own, wrapping his arms tightly around him and nuzzling into his hair. Whenever he held Will this tightly, he always thought of the fevered sweetness scent that no longer lingered on him. But Will still needed him, and that was something.

“I want to make you happy,” Will said. “I want to be together, really together.”

Hannibal didn’t respond and smiled against Will’s hair. He won. Will’s less-than-subtle interrogation about whether or not he was the Chesapeake Ripper was no longer the priority; Hannibal’s happiness was. And he loved that.


	7. Chapter 7

Will Graham shivered at the sensation of Hannibal flicking his tongue against the head of his erection. Caressing Will’s stomach, Hannibal gently kissed his cock as Will tightly gripped his hair. Instead of sucking his cock, Hannibal kissed Will’s pelvis and then his stomach. Will pressed his legs against Hannibal’s shoulders, urging him back down to his cock.

Hannibal suddenly bit into his stomach. Pain rippled through Will alongside a sudden burst of pleasure that curled his toes. He gasped and shuddered whike Hannibal broke the skin, tearing apart his flesh. The sensation somehow surpassed anything he had felt before, and he panted and moaned. He watched Hannibal smile at him with bloody lips as his fingers tried to stretch open the wound. Closing his eyes, Will squirmed, and when he tightening his grip on Hannibal’s hair, he felt antlers sprouting from a top his head.

Drenched in sweat, Will awoke, sitting upright and clutching where the wound would be. He hadn’t seen Hannibal as the creature, but he could still feel the soft, stiff antlers in his grasp. His erection throbbed against his thigh. Will sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You haven’t had a nightmare like that in a while, have you?”

Will listened to the stirring beside him as Hannibal rolled over to face him. Hannibal reached over to touch Will’s thigh in comfort, but pulled his hand away when he felt his hard cock.

“That’s new,” Hannibal said.

Will rubbed his face.

“Are you all right, Will?”

When Will didn’t respond, Hannibal coiled his arms around his friend, pulling him back into the bed and curling his body against Will’s sweaty one. One of his hands pressed against Will’s stomach, sliding underneath Will’s hand, and the other pressed against his heart. When Hannibal kissed his neck, Will closed his eyes.

“What kind of dream was it?” Hannibal asked. “A nightmare?”

Will nodded, slowly.

“It’s common to experience dreams of a sexual nature that you would never approve of in real life,” Hannibal said. “Some of my patients come to me, rather horrified, after having a sexual dream with one of their parents.”

“Well, it wasn’t with my father,” Will said, sharply.

“Good,” Hannibal said, kissing the back of his neck again.

Exhaling, Hannibal gave up being the psychiatrist and surrendered to being the big spoon. He listened to Will’s heartbeat and nuzzled into his sweaty hair with a serene smile on his face. He thought about how perfect his life felt, and he appreciated that Will continued to be unstable, interesting, and a challenge to manipulate.

“Do you want me to take care of your pressing issue?” Hannibal asked, removing his hand from Will’s stomach to brush it against his erection. “It would be my pleasure.”

“No,” Will said, quickly. When Hannibal left his hand there, Will said, “Maybe.”

“Is the issue that you feel guilty you enjoyed the dream, or is the issue that you are not actually aroused by the dream’s content and do not want to be pleasured with those thoughts and images in the back of your mind?”

“The first one, I think,” Will said. “Maybe it’s more that I know it’s something I wouldn’t enjoy or approve of in real life, but it felt good in the dream. Like vengeance films. It feels good to see the good guy kill the bad guy, but I wouldn’t approve of it in real life. I would want the bad guy to go through the court system.”

“Would you?” Hannibal asked.

Will paused. He supposed he might not. No, he did. He killed Garret Jacob Hobbs because he had no other choice. He killed Abigail Hobbs because he lost himself. He didn’t kill Eldon Stammets even though part of him wanted to. He just didn’t.

But the dream was different. It wouldn’t feel good to have Hannibal sink his teeth into him. It wouldn’t feel good to have Hannibal turn into a monster. He wouldn’t survive it. However, the thought of it caused Will’s cheeks to heat up. He squirmed against Hannibal. His cock ached and his mouth went dry.

Hannibal smiled and raised Will’s boxers enough that he could press his thumb against the head of his cock. He kissed Will’s neck again.

“C-could you just,” Will thinned his lips and paused.

Hannibal’s hand moved up Will’s boxers, gently jerking him off with his thumb still putting pressure against the head of his cock. He listened to Will pant and relished in the feeling of his friend squirming against him. He kissed his shoulder blade.

“Could you bite me?” Will asked. “Just a little bit. Nowhere anyone would notice.”

Will didn’t see the glint of excitement in Hannibal’s eyes. “Did you have a vampire dream, Will?” he teased to cover his growing interest.

“Don’t make this more awkward than I already feel.”

“How hard?” Hannibal asked.

Will pressed back against his partner, feeling his erection against his ass. Hannibal’s free hand drifted up Will’s shirt, still pressing against his heart. “Break skin,” Will said, “but nowhere anyone can see. I just want to know how it feels.”

Hannibal rolled Will onto his back and released his erection to pull off his shirt. “Do you want me to touch you while I do it?”

“I’ll handle it,” Will said.

Hannibal abruptly kissed him, prying Will’s mouth open with his own. He pulled Will’s legs around his back, and Will couldn’t help but twist his fingers into Hannibal’s hair as the doctor kissed him deeper. Hannibal gently bit his friend’s lower lip as he pulled away to kiss down the center of his chest. Hannibal’s teeth brushed against him, deciding where best to kiss him with teeth.

His soft lips caused a heated smile to spread across Will’s face, and Hannibal watched Will with interest. Will’s blue eyes stayed locked on him, and Hannibal wondered why. Did he suspect Hannibal would enjoy it too much? Was it a trap? Or was he simply curious about his new sexual request? Their eyes stayed locked together as Hannibal kissed Will’s nipple, teasing the other one between two of his fingers. After flicking his tongue against the erection tip, Hannibal bit down on the less sensitive and lighter skin around his nipple.

Will felt no additional spark or arousal. He liked the attention to his nipple, sure, but the teeth added nothing. He winced as Hannibal broke the skin. He tore his eyes away from Hannibal and rubbed his back. Hannibal ground his body up against Will’s, and Will moved his hips against him, feeling the pressure on his cock. That he liked.

With no new orders from Will, Hannibal moved to other areas of Will’s chest. Pressing both of his thumbs against Will’s nipples, Hannibal tried biting several other places on Will’s chest, trying to gauge his reaction while suppressing his own excitement. Hannibal’s cock ached, and his mind whirled to slamming his cock into Will’s ass and listening to him moan. He loved the idea of marking Will’s body with his teeth. He’d see Will was his when his friend walked around the house without a shirt.

Hannibal started to jerk Will off as his moved to biting his stomach. Will moved his fingers onto Hannibal’s shoulder, squirming as the memory of the dream returned to him. Fear mixed with a hot arousal rippled through his body. Hannibal bit down, breaking skin and then kissing and licking the injured skin. Panting and squirming as Hannibal jerked him off faster, Will tightened his grip in Hannibal’s hair.

Pulling Will off of him, Hannibal sat up and grabbed the lubricant off the nightstand. Will said, “I might be too sore for more.”

Squeezing lubricant across his fingers, Hannibal said, “It will be fine.” He knew if he continued Will would orgasm first and then give him a quick, sloppy hand job as he fell back to sleep. He doubted Will would let him bite him again, and he wanted the memory to be full for him as well as for Will. He didn’t want to lay in bed with Will’s sticky sperm on his shirt and his own erection throbbing against him. Hannibal continued, “Trust me.”

Will moved Hannibal’s head away as the doctor tried to kiss his erection, so Hannibal flipped Will onto his stomach and kissed his shoulder and neck while he pulled down his boxers and pressed a finger into his ass. Hannibal bit into Will’s back as he pressed the second finger in, pumping them both quickly. His other hand lifted Will’s thighs off the bed. Will didn’t voice his concern; he wanted to know if Hannibal would hurt him. He wasn’t ready to admit that part of him liked Hannibal taking a rough control over him.

Hannibal pumped his fingers faster, separating them and gently curling them to feel Will squirm against him. He kissed the new cut on Will’s back, tasting Will’s tinny blood. He pulled his fingers out, pulled down his own pants, and spread lubricant onto his cock. He didn’t want to mention a condom. Will took the lube from him to put some on his hand, and Hannibal jerked himself off a few times as he watched Will pull his boxers down past his hips to jerk himself off. When he edged the head of his cock into Will’s ass, his friend jerked himself off faster.

Pinning Will’s hands to the bed with his own, Hannibal slammed his cock deep into him and watched Will wince. Kissing Will’s ear and neck, he spread his friend’s legs with his knees and pumped quickly into his ass. Will’s unattended cock throbbed, and when he tried to pull his hands away from Hannibal’s, Hannibal only tightened his grip on them. His sexual frustration overwhelmed whatever pain Hannibal caused. He panted and squirmed, bucking back against Hannibal, eager to feel him continue.

Hannibal bit down on Will’s shoulder, and he dug his nails into Will’s palms. He fucked Will harder, stimulating a groan out of his friend. Will arched his back against Hannibal’s chest, bucking back faster to try to match Hannibal’s rhythm. Hannibal bit down where Will’s shoulder and neck met, sucking and kissing the skin as it bled.

Releasing Will’s hands, Hannibal pulled out of his friend to push him back against the bed and keep Will’s aching erection pinned against the mattress. Hugging Will about the shoulders, Hannibal slammed his entire length back into him before nearly pulling out and repeating the process several more times with grunts. Will hugged a pillow against his chest, moving his hips against Hannibal’s rhythm and feeling his cock slide against the mattress.

Stifling his groan against Will’s neck, Hannibal moved faster, spilling into Will’s ass. “Don’t stop,” Will gasped. “Not yet.”

He realized he was seeing Hannibal with less restraint, aroused by the safe violence and pain between them, and Will wanted to see more of it. He wanted Hannibal’s uncontrolled groans and nips. He wanted to see and love every part of Hannibal.

But Will’s request only excited Hannibal more, and he moved faster with a groan despite how close he was to his limit. Hugging Will tighter, he kissed and bit his friend’s ear, moaning and gasping against it. He pumped deep into Will, holding his erection there while thinking of him spattered with blood. With one arm still tightly around Will, he raised Will’s hips with the other to jerk him off, feeling Will’s excitement already curling across his fingertips. Will groaned, and Hannibal bit down into his shoulder again, tearing the injured skin further. Gripping Hannibal’s arm, Will felt Hannibal’s fingers claw into his chest as he pounded into him.

Hannibal came with a loud groan, pumping roughly into Will several times as he finished. The sensation alongside Hannibal’s nimble fingers sent Will over the edge, and he shot his load across the sheets with a shudder and a gasp.

As he pulled out, Hannibal dropped on top of Will, tilting his friend’s head to kiss him roughly, biting down on his lower lip before kissing him again. His arms coiled around Will, and he ground up against his friend as he extended the kiss.

Discomfort settled into Will. The semen in his ass and on his stomach. The fresh cuts across his body. The weight of a loose Hannibal on his back. The boxers around his hips. Pulling off the boxers, he slid out from underneath Hannibal and sat up with his feet over the edge of the bed. “How was it?” Hannibal asked.

“I like that you liked it,” Will said.

Hannibal rolled onto his back, realizing how much of himself he let slip through. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Will replied. “I’m just going to take a bath. I have work in four hours, and I bet I could squeeze some fishing in.”

“It’s nearly four in the morning, Will.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Come back to bed,” Hannibal said.

“I’m sticky and I’m sore and I’m wide awake.”

“If you’re upset with me, please tell me.”

Will turned around with a serious expression on his face. He crawled back onto the bed and straddled Hannibal around the waist. “I’m not angry or upset or disappointed.”

“Disappointed?” Hannibal asked, sitting up. “Would you really describe the sex we just had as disappointing?”

“No,” Will said. “I said I wasn’t.”

Hannibal’s self-consciousness surprised himself. Will moved onto his legs as Hannibal loosely wrapped his arms around Will. As Will avoided his eyes, Hannibal realized he was afraid because he showed Will a part of himself he always hid – and if Will didn’t approve of this simple thing, he was already losing him. It would be the beginning of the end. If he was disgusted by a bit of biting during sex, he certainly wasn’t going to approve of him carving out internal organs.

“It didn’t live up to expectations,” Hannibal said.

“What you did felt great,” Will said, “but the teeth didn’t add anything for me. I just didn’t expect you to like it more than I did.”

Rubbing Will’s thighs, Hannibal said, “We should switch places next time you want to experiment. Maybe biting is just more fun than being bit.”

“I’m not sure,” Will said.

Hannibal shrugged. “We don’t have to do it again.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. Are you happy, Will? Or are you just sticky and sore and wide awake?”

When Will didn’t reply, Hannibal nuzzled him and pecked his lips. Propping his forehead against Will’s, Hannibal said, “We’ll find something that makes us both happy.”

“I haven’t seen you lose yourself like that before,” Will said.

“In my defence, that was partly because you woke me up in the middle of the night with a hard-on and new request. A good part of me was just interested because of that. I like it when you ask me for things – especially sexual things.”

Will smiled.

Hannibal pecked Will’s lips again. “Do you want to talk about your dream?”

“No,” Will said, pulling away from Hannibal and climbing off the bed. “I want to take a bath and then go fishing. Should I assume you’ll be sleeping instead of joining me?”

“Maybe,” Hannibal said, dropping back onto the bed and hugging a pillow to his chest. “There’s a good chance I’ll go back to sleep.”

“Next time then,” Will said. “Goodnight.”

Hannibal smiled and replied, “Good fishing.”

Will fumbled to find some clothes in the darkness and closed the door to the bathroom before turning on the light. He caught his reflection in the mirror, and he saw the small cuts across his body. The one on his neck turned into a suck-bruise, and he realized it would be hard to hide. He would need a collared shirt to cover it. It was strange to see this sort of violence across his body, especially caused by Hannibal – caused by affection.

Fear crept up on Will. If he had still been sick, he would have seen the creature standing behind him in the mirror, but he was well and only thought of it instead. He thought of Hannibal in New Haven. He thought of the So-Called’s kills, with their hearts cut out. He thought of Beverly treading lightly as she asked questions about Hannibal.

No. It was nothing. A coincidence. He would know if Hannibal was killing people. There was no reason for him to be suspicious. Bite marks were nothing to be worried about.

Will started the water in the tub, mixing in salt as the tub filled. He shivered as he thought about Hannibal groaning against his ear. Neither the Chesapeake Ripper nor the So-Called showed any signs of sexual violence. Will closed his eyes and wondered what exactly aroused Hannibal about the exchange. As he swirled the water with his arm, he thought of waking up next to a meek Hannibal with a hard-on and a new request.

He thought of pinning Hannibal against the sheets and biting hard into his shoulder. The surge of excitement Will felt surprised him. Was it the dominance? The violence?

It hit him suddenly.

The love.

Hannibal was aroused because Will trusted Hannibal so much, he was fine with the man to bite him and break his skin. That was a serious thing, wasn’t it? To trust someone to be rough without serious injury. To trust they know exactly what they’re doing. To trust it would never get so far that the pain would be permanent.

Will winced as he waded into the warm water. His cuts tingled, but the pain mainly lingered in his ass and back; a pain he commonly felt after sex. He considered how it likely wasn’t the violence that appealed to Hannibal – it was that Will trusted him to be violent. Will smiled as he sank deeper into the water. And that was fine. That was normal.

The smile stayed on his face as he thought of the dream where Hannibal tore open his stomach. It was something, too, to have a partner that would wake up in the middle of the night and offer to help him explore a new fetish sparked by a dream. He wondered how Alana would have handled it. She likely would have wanted to analyze it. The desire for violence against himself might even scare her.

He missed her. He wanted Hannibal who knew when to push him and when to give him space, but he still missed talking to Alana. He missed knowing that she cared about him. He wondered why she never called, though he still had no intention of calling her.

While Will continued to brood through the bath and lightened up as he started fishing, Hannibal found himself waking up from a surprisingly refreshing sleep despite its short time frame. He made breakfast in his robe, humming as he scrambled the eggs and tossed pieces of sausage for the dogs to jump and snap at. He liked watching them push and snarl at each other for the scraps of food. Will scolded them when they did it; Hannibal did not.

Keeping the dogs inside with his leg, Hannibal stepped outside with two plates of eggs and walked across the beach to find Will. His friend was perched on top of a large rocky area with a large drop that ended in water. It was his regular fishing spot. He never understood why Will wouldn’t fish off the dock, but he hadn’t ever thought of asking. He could see the dock from the kitchen, and maybe Will liked some privacy here on the rocks.

Winston sat beside Will, panting cheerfully as Will’s blue eyes latched onto Hannibal. “Breakfast,” Hannibal said.

Will took in the sight of Hannibal with a smile. The doctor had only smoothed out his hair with his hand, failing to hide a few loose strands of bedhead. Bags sat beneath the doctor’s eyes, but a serene smile held strong to his face. He suspected Hannibal hummed when he made breakfast. Will could never pinpoint the days Hannibal would hum – it wasn’t strictly connected to their lovemaking since he would hum on days they didn’t, though he often hummed when they did – but he carried a strange aura of contentment on the days he did hum.

What he liked most, however, was that Hannibal failed to change before coming outside. Will recognized the pyjamas as the ones he slept in, and he knew if his robe had been opened, he probably would have seen semen stains on the bottoms. He liked that Hannibal didn’t care to fix himself up for once. He liked that Hannibal didn’t mind dressing down for him.

Sitting down next to Will and on the side opposite of Winston, Hannibal handed his friend one of the plates with a fork still in place. Will had made a spot on the rock for him to rest his fishing rod, and he placed it there before accepting the plate from Hannibal. The men said nothing as they sat side-by-side on the rock, with Hannibal’s leg gently pressed against Will’s while they listened to the waves. Winston leaned against Will, not so misbehaved as to openly beg, but reminding Will of his hungry presence.

Will considered how he always considered himself like his strays – abandoned, alone, and misunderstood – but as he glanced over at Hannibal, leaning on Will with a similar intensity as Winston, he realized Hannibal was more like them than he was. He just hadn’t noticed Hannibal was lost until Hannibal found a place with him. Hannibal hadn’t needed to be trained, but he had seen the changes in the man over the year they spent together. He was less uptight with his personal appearance around Will, and Will found it interesting how Hannibal hadn’t seemed to act like this even in his own home when they lived apart.

It was as if Hannibal had a persona he always pretended to be, and now that he felt at home with Will – more at home than he even felt with himself – he let the mask slip and was more willing to be himself. Will liked that.

“Only Winston came with you today?” Hannibal asked.

“You remember his name.”

“He’s the only one,” Hannibal flippantly replied.

“The rest were waiting for you to come down,” Will said. He continued with more good-humour than he intended, “You’ve got to stop sneaking them food while you cook. It’s not healthy for them.”

“I do not sneak them food.”

“Well then I don’t know what they’re waiting for in the kitchen.”

“Maybe they prefer my company to yours,” Hannibal said.

Will laughed. “I think you bribe them to get their friendship.”

Hannibal simply smiled and continued eating. Will slipped Winston a piece of sausage despite his previous comment. He asked, “Is this the same sausage from your dinner party?”

Hannibal nodded. “There’s a lot leftover.”

“It’s good.”

“I am glad you enjoy it.”

“It has a really unique smell I can’t place,” Will said.

Hannibal didn’t offer the source of the smell, and Will ate the piece, not thinking much about it. His mind shot to the dream of Hannibal biting into his stomach, but his mind often ventured there throughout the morning, and he thought nothing of it. Heat rose to his cheeks, and he wondered why the dream aroused him so much.

“While I do not particularly enjoy that shirt, it does cover the, shall we say, hickey well,” Hannibal said. “Sorry about the placement of it.”

Will simply smiled, set the plate in his lap, and then put his hand on the inside of Hannibal’s thigh. Hannibal kissed where he neck and jaw met. “Don’t give me another,” Will said with a smile. He didn’t push Hannibal away.

Hannibal traced his lips down Will’s neck before pulling away. Will thought about Hannibal’s tongue flicking against his shaft in his dream. “I need to get ready for work,” Hannibal said. “How long do you have?”

“I still have a little over an hour before I should head out,” Will said, checking his watch. “Do you have an early appointment?”

Hannibal nodded. When he leaned over to take Will’s plate, Will grabbed the front of his shirt, keeping him down with him. He pecked Hannibal’s lips lightly, and he smiled as Hannibal leaned forward to extend the kiss. “Should I expect you to be equally frisky when you come home tonight?” Hannibal asked.

“I’ll see how work goes,” Will replied. “I wouldn’t plan to surprise me. I’m still sore.”

Hannibal smiled and gave Will another quick kiss before standing upright. He grabbed the few fish Will caught and started to walk away with a simple wave. Winston barked after him, and he followed him for a few steps until he looped around to sit back down beside Will. He barked several more times, and Will pet behind his ears, cooing him and telling him Hannibal would be fine. He wondered if Winston was upset Hannibal didn’t sneak food to him.

Will fished without incident for around ten minutes until Winston started barking again. Will looked up to see a man approaching – tall, blond, and clad in a thick beard. The man smiled and waved, and Will waved back though he didn’t recognize the man at all. “Are you lost?” Will asked.

Plenty of tourists wandered onto their property not realizing it wasn’t a public beach. Most of them were friendly enough, and usually Will and Hannibal didn’t stop them from hanging around unless the group was large or they seemed sketchy. They only had a few negative experiences, and usually they made sure they stayed together and kept the dogs out when they had someone on the property.

But this was one man with a tackle box and fishing rod, and Will had Winston beside him, who panted happily as the man approached.

“I’m afraid so,” the man said. “I heard there was a good fishing spot around here.” He set down his tackle box and opened a map for Will. He asked, “Are you from around here?”

Will nodded and stood up to look at the map. The man pointed to the circled area, and Will shook his head. “You’re in the wrong township,” Will said. He moved the map and pointed to where they actually were located.

A curse fell out from between the man’s straight teeth. “I knew I passed the turn off,” he said. “That’s what I get for relying too much on a GPS. The fish won’t be biting by the time I find them again.”

“You can stay here,” Will said. “It’s our property, but one person isn’t going to result in serious fish depletion.” He offered the man a smile.

Winston sniffed his hand, and the man gave him a friendly pat before moving behind his ears. Will liked that the stranger liked dogs. “I really appreciate it,” the man said. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Will said.

Both men sat down, and Will watched out of the corner of his eye as the man prepared his fishing rod and baited his hook. He noticed that the lure seemed homemade, but he didn’t ask about it. The man carried with him a certain elegance, someone both familiar with and appreciative of the sport of fishing.

“I guess you’re not from around here then,” Will said.

“No,” the man replied, laughing. “I suppose it’s obvious.”

“Vacation then?”

“Uh huh,” the man said. “Work strongly implied I needed one. Couldn’t decide where to go, and a friend of mine suggested here. I thought I wouldn’t like the heat, but it grows on you.”

“Sure does,” Will said.

“You said ‘we’ own the property. Do you have a family?”

“A partner,” Will said.

“So that either means liberals in a relationship or you’re gay.”

“My partner is a man, yes,” Will said. He wanted to add that it was none of the man’s business.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” the man said. “I just wanted to know if I should expect to see a wife and kids on the beach or what. I should have said it that way.”

Will appreciated the man picked up on his hostility quickly, and he noticed how the man watched him with a keen interest. “How long are you here for?” Will asked.

“A month,” the man said. “One very long month, I imagine.”

Will couldn’t decide if he should invite the man back or not, so he didn’t reply. The pair sat in silence for a while, and he watched the way the man stroked Winston’s head after the dog put it in his lap. There was something soothing about the man, but Will couldn’t place it. It was like meeting an old friend despite the fact that he didn’t even seem familiar. Aside from the comment about Hannibal, they seemed to blend together naturally.

They made some small talk about the weather and fishing, and despite it being small, it felt normal. There was no awkwardness between them. Will checked his watch and said he had to go to work, but he invited the man to stay and pointed in the direction of the house. “If you need help finding your way back, you can ask my partner for help. He works out of the home, so if he doesn’t answer, he’s with a client. You can wait on the back porch for him. His name is Hans.”

“Hans,” the man said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch yours.”

“Will.”

“I’m Aaron,” the man said.

The men shook hands, and Will noticed how soft his fingers were. Their long, delicate nature reminded him of Hannibal’s hands. Heat rose to his cheeks. On an impulse, he said, “You’re welcome back anytime. Just don’t bring a large party or litter or anything. Be sure to stop by the house and to say, ‘Hello’ though.”

“Thanks,” the man said. “I just might.”

Will called to Winston, and the dog got up to follow Will. The man who introduced himself as Aaron watched Will walk away. Winston looked back at the man, giving him a friendly bark as he happily hopped around Will. Despite his calm demeanor, the man’s heart pounded and his mind whirled with excitement. Ian Wagner had found Will Graham.

While Ian Wagner drifted in and out of Will’s thoughts throughout the day, Hannibal’s mind didn’t even consider him. Hannibal went through his appointments with a good mood, and it didn’t fade as Jack Crawford called him in between appointments.

“Hello?”

“Dr.Lecter, it’s Jack Crawford.”

“And how are things going for the F.B.I., Jack?”

“They would be better if I could talk to Will. Is he around?”

“I’m afraid he’s at work.”

“I thought you said he was working nights.”

“He’s on the day shift now, I guess,” Hannibal said.

“Can you tell him I called?” Jack asked. “And get him to call me back. He never returns my calls.”

“Oh, you know what Will’s like. I give him the message, but it’s pulling teeth to get him to use the phone.”

“I heard he’s been talking to Beverly,” Jack said.

“I suppose he’s more comfortable with texting,” Hannibal replied.

“I also heard you had a dinner party Will thought I was invited to, though I don’t recall receiving any invitation.”

“I thought it inappropriate to invite you and difficult to explain how we knew you,” Hannibal said, “but I knew Will wouldn’t be happy about having a dinner party. I lied.”

“I suppose Will’s having the time of his life. Dinner parties. Avoiding phone calls.”

“I think it’s safe to assume he’s enjoying himself.”

“Maybe I be blunt, Dr. Lecter?”

“Of course.”

“Are you keeping Will from me?”

“No, of course not.”

“I heard Alana Bloom is also having a hard time reaching Will.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call her back if I was Will,” Hannibal said, checking his nails. “And I assume he’s not calling you back because he’s afraid. He’s happy now. He’s probably afraid of slipping back into the void he fell into. Has there been any luck finding Abigail Hobbs?”

“None.”

“She shook him up as much as her father did.”

Jack sighed on the line. “I need his help.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Hannibal said. “You’d probably have to come here and drop the file in his lap to get him to look at it, but that would require actually coming here. I suppose it would be suspicious to any outsiders if you showed up out of the blue.”

“Dr. Lecter, I find it odd that Will helps Beverly Katz, but he won’t even return my phone calls.”

“I know he trusts Beverly,” Hannibal said.

He smiled at the implication that Will didn’t trust Jack Crawford, and Jack was silent for a moment. He finally said, “Is Will really happy there?”

“Seems to be. Says he is.”

“Does he have a girlfriend or something? Someone that would be eating up all his time?”

“I wouldn’t say girlfriend.”

“But there is someone?”

Hannibal debated whether or not to say it, but he knew Will would prefer Hannibal did the honours. His friend wasn’t ready to admit it on his own, and he knew that’s why Will wanted him at the dinner party where Jack couldn’t make a scene after it was clear they were a couple.

“It’s me.”

He heard silence on the other line. Jack said, “How long?”

“Longer than would be appropriate.”

“And that’s why you didn’t want to be separated.”

“I assure you, Will’s mental health was my first priority.”

“And that’s why Alana was so upset with you – how long has she known?”

“She doesn’t,” Hannibal said. “Will made a pass at her, she responded in kind and then said no and then said maybe and then said maybe when you are well. I found the whole thing rather rude to Will, so I was rude back.”

“Will made a pass at her when you were together?”

“No, before. I was rude to her after we were together though.”

“You felt threatened by her.”

“I’m not afraid to say I was,” Hannibal said. “And I didn’t appreciate her leading on the person I was interested in when I was ready to be his regardless of how stable his emotional state was.”

Hannibal could almost hear Jack rubbing his temples on the other line. Jack hated hearing about this sort of thing. He said, “What am I supposed to do, Hannibal? Do you expect me to look the other way?”

“Yes. Will’s not my patient anymore. If you doubt my professionalism, you should remember how hard I helped you push Will even though I was in love with him. If I had let my emotions control the situation, I would have pulled him out long before.”

Silence. “Would you use the term love?”

“I would,” Hannibal said. “I’m afraid to ask if it’s mutual.”

“But he’s happy?”

“He says he is. We make it work.”

“Just get him to call me back,” Jack said. “I really don’t see a need to discuss your relationship further. Do you think Will would look at them if I sent some files over?”

“I could try to get him to,” Hannibal said, “but you might want to put Beverly’s name on them instead of yours.”

“You won’t fight me on this?”

“I don’t want Will to lose himself again,” Hannibal said, “so I will be watching over him to make sure he doesn’t. I know he won’t want more people to be hurt because he didn’t look, so I’ll make sure he doesn’t look so hard and for so long that he can’t find his way back.”

“So you respect what he would want.”

“Yes.”

“You can expect the files in a few days – hopefully tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here to receive them,” Hannibal said.

Jack lingered, as if he wanted to say something else, but instead he said, “I’ll talk to you later. Get Will to return my call.”

“I’ll do my best,” Hannibal said, and he heard Jack hang up.

He smiled as he hung up his end. He had expected Jack to yell at him and threaten him, but he liked how smoothly it went – it just showed that Jack trusted him. He thought about what a wonderful day he was having.

Hannibal’s day continued to be wonderful as Will came home. Will greeted the strays first, as he usually did, and then he dropped onto the couch, placing his feet into Hannibal’s lap and wiggling his toes. Not looking up from his book, Hannibal moved his grip onto the spine of the book and used his free hand to rub one of Will’s feet. Will sank deeper into the couch with a tired smile.

“I met someone today.”

“Should I be worried, Will?”

“No, I mean a tourist on our property. I said he could fish here. Did he stop in?”

“I don’t think so.”

“His name was Aaron. I didn’t think to ask about his last name.”

Hannibal only half-listened, not at all concerned about the tourist. People came and went, and Will sometimes grew attached to them, especially when they liked his strays. He made a noise to imply he listened.

“I said he could come back anytime, so if he stops by, be nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

“We talked about fishing.”

Hannibal didn’t reply.

“He was quiet, too, but it was comfortable. I didn’t feel like I had to say anything to him.”

“Did Winston like him?”

“Sure did,” Will said.

Hannibal tried not to roll his eyes. Will pressed his other foot against Hannibal’s hand, and Hannibal switched to rub the other one, still focussing mainly on his book. He said, “Jack Crawford called today.”

“What did he want?”

“He just chatted a bit,” Hannibal said, absently. “I guess Beverly is going to be sending you some files to look at. I told him we were together.”

“How did he react?”

“Better than I expected.”

“Does he want me to call him back?”

“He didn’t say,” Hannibal said. “He sounded satisfied with me though. You can call him back if you want.”

Will didn’t. It was easier for Hannibal to act as a middle man, and he had never been one who enjoyed using the phone. He always let Hannibal answer it, and if his partner wasn’t home, he usually let the answering machine grab it. He didn’t realize how easy he made it for Hannibal to isolate him from his friends. He didn’t even think about it.

“Did he say anything about the files?”

“No,” Hannibal said. “It probably wasn’t appropriate to tell me, especially now that we are lovers instead of patient-and-doctor.”

“We could still play doctor, if you wanted,” Will replied.

“We’re playing doctor right now, with me rubbing your feet like this.”

“You could try rubbing something else.”

“I thought you were too sore, Will.”

“I am.”

“Then don’t get me worked up if you can’t deliver.”

“Maybe I should try calling Jack,” Will said.

“Go ahead.”

Will looked over at the phone, and then looked back to Hannibal. The doctor stared keenly at his book, likely reading the same sentence over and over again as Will continued to interrupt him. His hand worked absently on his foot and, despite Hannibal’s split attention, it still felt perfect.

“Come here,” Will said.

“I’m reading.”

“You can read over here.”

Hannibal looked up from his book and frowned at Will. His friend smiled at him. With a disapproving sigh, Hannibal moved to the other side of the couch, spreading Will’s legs so he could lean back against him. Will loosely wrapped his arms around Hannibal and kissed the side of his head. Hannibal still held his book open with one hand while the other lightly drew circles on Will’s thigh. Will tried to read over Hannibal’s shoulder.

“Apparently the black ninja outfit began in Edo period theater in Japan because they were blending them in with stage hands to surprise the audience. Dark blue was a more common choice for real ninjas because it doesn’t have a silhouette.”

“Is that why your favourite robe is dark blue, Hannibal? So you can sneak up on me in the middle of the night?”

“It is certainly a benefit, but I think I look rather nice in dark blue.”

“Why are you reading about ninjas?”

“I’m reading about Japanese theatre,” Hannibal said. “Ninjas just happen to be one of the subjects.”

“Ah.”

Hannibal returned to reading, and Will focussed more on how pleasant the doctor felt in his arms. He liked having someone to hold and cuddle, even if that someone complained he was too bony and couldn’t remove his nose from a book. He mentally went through the things he needed to do over the course of the evening, and he accepted the fact that he wouldn’t bother calling Jack back. If he didn’t ask, he didn’t need to. He hardly wanted Jack asking about his relationship with Hannibal, and whatever his partner said was probably more eloquent than anything he could mumble out.

“You must be bored, just sitting here with me,” Hannibal said. “Do you want me to make us some dinner?”

“I’m not bored,” Will said.

“I thought you were falling asleep back there.”

“I might have been,” Will said, “but I can make us dinner. I can use one of the fish I caught.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“And I like cooking for you.”

“But my food tastes better.”

“That is very rude, Hannibal.”

“It is merely a truthful statement.”

“Well, my feelings are wounded.” Will released his grip on Hannibal, but the doctor didn’t pull away from him. Will continued, “I don’t know how you’ll ever make it up to me.”

“I suppose you’ll run away with your new tourist friend.”

“I am seriously considering it,” Will said.

Hannibal set his book face-down on the coffee table, leaving it propped open where he left off. The doctor turned around, laying on his stomach with his chin digging into Will’s chest. “Do you know what a solution could be?”

“A threesome?”

Hannibal frowned. “I meant with the food. Should I be worried about this tourist, Will?”

“No,” Will said. “How come you can insult my cooking, but I can’t make a joke about sleeping with a tourist?”

“Are you attracted to him?”

“He reminds me of you, though without some of your elegance.”

“You didn’t say yes or no, Will.”

“I am attracted to you,” Will said. “And you have me. The mark on my neck makes it very clear that you have me.”

Will smiled and outlined Hannibal’s face with his fingers. He started at his temples, curled around his sharp cheekbones, went down his jawline, and then stopped at where the man’s chin dug into his chest. He avoided Hannibal’s eyes, and heat rose to his cheeks as Hannibal refused to look away from him.

“Say it again,” Hannibal said.

“I am attracted to you?”

“No.”

“You have me,” Will said. “I’m yours.”

Hannibal leaned upwards to kiss his neck. His fingers lightly touched Will’s back.

“It’s not like you to be insecure,” Will said.

“It’s not like you to joke about sleeping with other people.”

“You insulted my cooking,” Will replied. “Besides, I wasn’t taking you out of the equation. I recommended a threesome. Anyway it was a joke. A threesome would be too much of a high-pressure situation for me, and I think you know that.”

Will had, of course, idly considered a threesome with Hannibal and Alana Bloom, but he feared the two would spend more time on each other than on him, or they would both be busy psychoanalyzing him while he cuddled with him. He liked the idea of being wedged between the two of them, but he feared that either both of their minds would be taking apart Will’s every movement or they would be busy thinking about each other. He couldn’t decide which one made him feel worse.

One person was enough, and Hannibal suited him better. Alana would spend too much time analyzing him and herself.

“I will remember not to invite you to my next orgy,” Hannibal murmured against Will’s neck.

“So that’s what your conferences really are,” Will said, stroking Hannibal’s hair.

“And I think only of you the entire time. I think of being in a pile of Will Grahams, all determined to satisfy me sexually while not allowing me to finish before satisfying them.”

Will laughed, and he felt Hannibal smile against his neck. “I think a pile of me would be a little overwhelming. Especially if you tried to actually just sleep with them.”

“One satisfies me perfectly,” Hannibal said. “You’re enough of a handful on your own – and I mean that sexually, not your nightmares. I could handle a lot more nightmares.”

Will tilted Hannibal’s chin upwards to peck his lips. Hannibal cheerfully sighed and pressed his ear against Will’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. A heart that beat only for him. A heart that he could stop whenever he wanted. A heart that he could make, as cliché as it was, skip a beat.

“Did you want to hear my actual suggestion for dinner?” Hannibal asked.

“Sure.”

“I think we should prepare the meal together. How does that sound?”

Smiling, Will replied, “That sounds perfect.”


	8. Chapter 8

Will Graham broke into the house using a bolt cutter for the lock at the back door. He glanced back over the large backyard to confirm that no one saw his entry. The full moon overlooked him. He took off his shoes and left them in the shoe rack like an old friend before walking down the front hall. He turned a knife between his fingers. It would be a physically close kill. Intimate. Almost loving. He walked up the front stairs, knowing where to put his weight to stop the old floorboards from creaking under his step.

As he walked down the upstairs hallway, he heard a knocking at one of the doors.

He paused.

“Will?”

Will blinked as confusion set in. The door to the children’s room opened, and Hannibal stepped through it with a plate balanced on his hand. A mutilated child’s corpse sat on it. No terror or disgust ran through him.

Will rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand, struggling to escape his vision.

“Will?”

When Will opened his eyes again, he saw Hannibal in his office, holding a plate with some intricately prepared, meaty dish on it.

“I thought we agreed we wouldn’t enter without permission,” Will said.

“I was worried,” Hannibal replied. “You’ve been in here for two days straight and I could hear you talking to yourself from the kitchen.”

Raising his voice, Will repeated his previous statement.

Hannibal took a step back. Crime scene photographs spiraled out around Will’s place on the center of the floor. His glasses couldn’t hide his sunken eyes with dark circles around them, and his cheeks looked hollow. A few typed pages with handwritten notes were also mixed in, but there were more photographs, and the photographs interested Hannibal more. The bloody photos contained mainly children and a few young adults – babysitters. Hannibal had been following the story on The Tattler, but this was the first time he saw uncensored images.

Will had been working on the case for a week, but Hannibal hadn’t seen Will in two days. He hadn’t touched him in four days. He hadn’t slept with him in five days.

“It’s too soon,” Hannibal said, sharply. “You’re not ready for this.”

Hannibal set the plate in Will’s lap and began picking up the photographs. Will grabbed him by the wrist, and the force Will used to pull Hannibal’s hands away surprised the doctor. He stumbled and struggled to regain his balance.

“I can’t ignore this one,” Will said, firmly. “I can’t look away.”

“You’re going to have to.”

“You’re not the person who makes that decision anymore,” Will said.

He could smell the whiskey on Will’s breath. Had Will slept at all? With Will still tightly gripping him, Hannibal tried picking up the photographs again as he replied, “As your partner, I would think you would take my opinion into account.”

“Not for this case.”

Nonetheless, Hannibal continued shuffling the pictures into a messy pile. When Will stood up, the plate tipped off his lap and spilled its contents across the pictures and carpet. He yanked Hannibal away. “You can’t be here,” Will said. “I don’t want you to see this – or me.”

“Will, you’re being absurd.”

Will tried pushing Hannibal out of the office, and Hannibal struggled to keep himself steady with his socks slipping against the photographs. He gripped Will’s shoulders to try to put distance between them. “Will, you used to talk to me about these things.”

“I need privacy right now.”

Hannibal closed the door with his foot to keep Will from pushing him out of it, but with only one foot on the carpet, he lost his balance and slipped just as Will gave him another hard shove. Will’s palm hit Hannibal on the nose instead of on his chest, and he felt a sickening snap against his hand.

The back of Hannibal’s head slammed against the door as he fell, and he found Will’s arms around him to keep him from falling completely to the ground. Hannibal’s head throbbed, and warm blood oozed from his nose. His eyes narrowed.

“I am so sorry,” Will said, trying to lift Hannibal back onto his feet. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Hannibal watched his blood drip onto the photographs and the carpet. He took his handkerchief out of his suit jacket and pressed it against his nose. Will wondered why Hannibal was so heavy and he again tried raising him back onto his feet. Frustration knotted inside of him, and he mentally cursed Hannibal for being such a busybody.

Steadying himself back onto his feet, Hannibal pulled the handkerchief away from his nose to admire his blood. Will had pushed him. Will had harmed him.

“This is why you’re supposed to knock,” Will said. “You can’t just barge in here when I’m trying to concentrate.”

Will was angry with him.

Hannibal grabbed the front of Will’s shirt and then shoved him away. Will stumbled, slipping on the photographs. He tried grabbing a chair to steady himself, but he knocked over the chair instead and fell to the ground with it.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Will snapped.

Hannibal kneeled on the ground and pulled Will towards him by his hips. He then grabbed Will’s wrists as he leaned over him. Blood dropped onto Will’s cheek. “You aren’t pushing me away, Will. You can fight me, you can hurt me, you can curse me, but I am here, and I’m not going to let you hurt yourself.”

Will’s eyes widened, and another drop of blood splattered onto his glasses. Hannibal kissed him roughly, and Will tasted the fresh mint on Hannibal’s breath alongside his blood. He was suddenly self-conscious of how terrible the alcohol likely tasted in his mouth. But Hannibal simply kissed him deeper, flicking his tongue against Will’s and biting down on his lower lip before kissing him again. Will twisted his fingers into Hannibal’s hair and tried not to brush his nose against Hannibal’s.

Hannibal ignored whatever sharp pain shot through his nose, and he released Will’s wrists to hook his friend’s legs around his back. Will broke the kiss as Hannibal’s erection pressed against his groin.

“I can’t,” Will said. “Not here. Not with all these pictures.”

He didn’t ask Hannibal how he could stay hard with a broken nose and bloodied bodies around him. He wondered though, especially when he saw frustration knit between Hannibal’s eyebrows.

Hannibal lightly grasped Will’s wrists again, his fingers pressing against his palms. When he tried to kiss him, Will turned his head away, and Hannibal kissed under his jaw.

“What are you trying to accomplish?” Will asked.

“I think I’m being fairly clear,” Hannibal said, kissing down Will’s neck.

He ground his groin against Will’s for extra emphasis. Will nuzzled into Hannibal’s hair, hugging him tightly. “Are you trying to normalize this?” Will asked. “Are you trying to make love to me so I think of that instead of trying to get into the killer’s mind?”

Kissing where Will’s shoulder blade and neck met, Hannibal said, “Perhaps you should focus on trying to get into my mind instead.”

“You’re angry I spilled the food you prepared for me,” Will said. “You’re angry I tried to kick you out of the room. I don’t think you’re mad about your nose – but you’re mad I’m trying to push you away.”

“And?”

“And I think you want to fuck me to show me you’re in charge and you’re in control. You want to do it here so I put you ahead of my work, and you want to bleed all over me so I remember that I hurt you and you didn’t even flinch.”

Hannibal pulled away to look directly at Will. Will didn’t pull his eyes away from Hannibal; his blue eyes burrowed into him. He didn’t waver. Hannibal saw fear in his eyes, but he didn’t let it control him. He was surprised at how closely Will read him.

“If I stopped fighting you, would you do it anyway?” Will asked. “Would you fuck me even though you knew I didn’t want it, even though you knew how uncomfortable and disgusted it made me? Would you go that far just to show me you’re in charge?”

Hannibal simply watched Will. Another drop of blood hit Will’s cheek and slowly crawled down it.

“I’m scared you might,” Will said. “And if you did, what would that say about us?”

Hannibal released Will’s wrists and then stood up. He smoothed out his vest before buttoning up his suit jacket. “You need to take a break,” he said, dabbing his handkerchief against his nose again. “You’re mistaking my personality with that of a psychopath’s. You’re already getting too close to this killer.”

Will stayed on the floor and thinned his lips. “You should go to the E.R.”

“I plan to,” Hannibal said. “You should call your fishing friend and take a break. After you wash my blood off of you, of course.”

Will nodded, and Hannibal simply walked away. Will’s heart pounded into his ears, and he listened for sounds that meant Hannibal moved through the house. Footsteps. Squeaky floorboards. But he heard nothing. Only his own heartbeat.

The fear he felt paralyzed him on the floor. And he wasn’t sure how much time passed before he finally sat upright. Out of one eye everything looked red – Hannibal’s blood fogged his vision. With shaking hands, he took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt. Whatever courage he felt when he confronted Hannibal had faded. His anger too.

Hannibal was right. He was getting too close to the case and it was obscuring his vision, just like his partner’s blood on his glasses. He knew Hannibal was just trying to shake him out of it and anchor him to reality.

But why was he so scared?

He turned to look at his phone and saw a red light flashing. Someone had called and left a message. Gripping his desk, Will stood up with his knees shaking. He turned his chair upright and moved the pictures and papers into a messy pile. He scooped the food back onto the plate – or as much of it as he could.

He then lifted up the phone, ignored the message, and called the hotel that the man he knew as Aaron stayed at.

While he waited for the man to pick up the phone, he drank another shot of whiskey.

Will Graham felt more relaxed as he sat on the rock with Ian Wagner next to him. The two men made idle chatter, but Will couldn’t help but notice how Ian’s eyes watched him during their long stretches of silence. The man knew something was up, but Will had cleaned off Hannibal’s blood, taken a shower, and changed clothes, so he wasn’t sure what gave him away.

He was getting tired of everyone noticing how damaged he was. He felt like a child’s favourite broken toy; despite the fact that he outlived his usefulness, the child continued to pull the toy out and was less careful with it because the damage had already been done. Beverly sent him the files knowing how brutal the case was. Hannibal shoved him to the ground.

So was this man trying to fix him or take advantage of the damage? Would he try to pop his arm back into its socket, or would he see how far back he could bend it instead?

It wasn’t until the sun set into the ocean and the moon held strong in the sky when Ian asked, “Are you having problems with your partner, Will?”

“No.”

Ian continued to watch Will. He pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged, and out of the corner of his eye, Will looked at Ian’s poor posture. Their eyes met briefly, and Will quickly looked away.

“You can talk to me,” Ian said. When Will still failed to reply, he continued, “Listen, I leave next week. After I met you, I saw you every other day at least, and then I stopped hearing from you for nearly a week. Then you call me out of the blue, but you’re different – like you have a monkey on your back.”

Will smiled weakly and stared hard at the ground.

“He’s not hurting you, is he?”

“What? No,” Will said. Will thought about Hannibal pinning him against the ground. He repeated, “No.”

“I just thought I saw some cuts on you one time-“

“Love bites.”

“Right.”

“I’m not being abused,” Will said. “I just got wrapped up in work,-“

“Aren’t you a diesel mechanic?

“-Yes, and he worried about me, and we got into a fight about it. I accidentally broke his nose, I think.”

“How do you accidentally break someone’s nose?”

“I was trying to push him off of me-“

“Will, you’re painting yourself into a corner. Why were you pushing him away?”

“He came into my office and we don’t go into each other’s offices-“

“You have your own offices?” Ian said, letting out a laugh in disbelief.

Will turned his head to narrow his eyes at him. Through grit teeth, he said, “It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be.”

“But shouldn’t it be simple?” Ian asked. “Shouldn’t you two just fit together like puzzle pieces? It sounds like you’re doing some serious cutting to fit your pieces together.”

Will thought of the way Hannibal looked at him when he came into the doctor’s office after Tobias Budge died. He thought of the way Hannibal brushed his hair off of his forehead to kiss it. He thought of all the times Hannibal whispered him out of a nightmare. He thought of his arms protecting him from falling into another one.

The fear that clutched him finally began to loosen its grip. Hannibal was probably just as scared as he was in that moment.

“We fit together,” Will said. “He works out of the home so he needs his own space. I like time alone, so I wanted my own space. We work with each other’s needs. No one just fits together perfectly. A relationship is always going to be a lot of work.”

“We seem to fit together all right.”

Ian offered Will a shy, gentle smile. Will frowned. “We’re just fishing.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Aaron, am I misinterpreting our friendship?”

“No, no,” Ian said, looking to his feet. “I just think we work well as friends, that’s all. It’s nice to find someone I can sit quietly with.”

Will turned his head back towards the ocean. “I think so too.”

Suddenly the silence seemed awkward. Will’s skin began to crawl. Ian said, “I leave next week. Will you keep in touch?”

“I’ll try,” Will said. “It’s not one of my strong points.”

Ian just nodded.

“Did you want to come up to meet my partner before you go?” Will asked. “You haven’t been up to the house yet. You could meet all my dogs.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“He loves to cook. We could have dinner,” Will said.

“Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

The silence set in again. Will glanced at Ian, but Ian stared hard at his own hands. Part of him wanted to tell Ian the whole truth. He wanted Ian to understand his relationship with Hannibal. Mostly, though, he wanted Ian to know that it wasn’t personal, that if they had met at different times in their lives, maybe they would have clicked. Maybe.

But it seemed cruel to say it now.

“What about brunch tomorrow?” Will asked. “You could come over and we could make something together. Hans loves to cook.”

“Okay, sure. What time are you thinking?”

“Eleven maybe?” Will asked. “It gives me some of the morning to work, and my partner probably won’t have any appointments around his lunch break.”

“Do you want me to bring anything?”

“No, we have too much food,” Will said. “I don’t think we’ll ever eat it all.”

“I have to bring something.”

“Don’t bring anything,” Will said.

Ian didn’t reply, but when Will glanced at him, he decided Ian would probably bring him something anyway. He thought of how difficult people were in general – how Ian would likely bring something to the brunch despite being told not to, how Hannibal would barge into his office even after they made promises not to. He wondered why Hannibal decided to break the promise now rather than earlier in their friendship.

Was he afraid that Will was losing himself?

Will decided then that he would have to go back to Jack. His office wasn’t enough. He needed to walk through the houses. He needed to see the crime scenes. He needed to talk to family and friends. He needed first-hand information, and he needed Hannibal to stop looming over his shoulder. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate in his office again. The thought of Hannibal interrupting him would always be in the back of his mind, disrupting his focus.

And he’d rather be sitting on his couch and reading instead of working on this case. He just wanted Hannibal to rub his feet and read off obscure facts.

He wanted to kiss him and taste him. He wanted to feel Hannibal’s breath against his skin.

But he couldn’t ignore this case.

“I’ll be going away for work soon,” Will said. “I don’t think I’ll be back before I leave.”

“So it’s a goodbye brunch then.”

“It is,” Will said, and Ian’s eyes widened as Will started to pack up his things. “Or a see you later brunch. I mean, it’s not like we’ll never see each other again after tomorrow.”

“Right,” Ian replied, forcing a smile.

“Anyway, I have to go,” Will said, standing up straight. “Sorry for cutting it short. You’re welcome to stay.”

“Oh, okay. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You seem distracted.”

“I just remembered something I had to do.”

“You mean your partner, right?”

Will laughed. “Maybe.”

“Call me later if our plans tomorrow need to be changed,” Ian said. “Or text. Whatever you prefer. I’ll see it.”

“Perfect,” Will said. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” Ian said as Will walked away.

Will walked back to the house with his fishing rod and tackle box. He hadn’t managed to catch anything, but he knew that wasn’t the goal. He needed to pull away from the case, and he managed to do that. He wanted to apologize to Hannibal, to feel him and taste him. He wanted to assure himself that whatever fear he felt was irrational.

And then he’d go with Jack and solve the case so he could come home to Hannibal with a clear mind so they could return to their regular, lazy routine. He didn’t want to go back to relying on Hannibal for his sanity. He didn’t want Hannibal to suffer just because he cared for him.

Will let the dogs out as he put his fishing equipment away. He then stepped outside to watch the strays, and he walked barefoot in the water as he turned around to look back at the house. He saw the light on in Hannibal’s office, but the curtains were drawn closed. As he listened to the waves, he thought of sailing with Hannibal. They hadn’t yet been sailing, and he wondered if Hannibal would smile as the wind brushed against him, or if he would grumble and struggle while he clutched the side of the boat to steady himself. Either way, Will would enjoy it.

Maybe after he got back they could go away together. Someone could watch the dogs.

Herding the dogs back inside, Will fed them before going to Hannibal’s office. He listened first, but heard no sound. He doubted Hannibal would have a client this late. He knocked on the door. There was still no sound.

“Hannibal?”

No reply.

“Hannibal I’m coming in.”

Will opened the door just as Hannibal flipped his tablet face down on his desk. A small, blue and white splint sat on his nose, minimizing the severity of his serious expression. Will tried not to smile. “I thought we agreed not to enter each other’s offices,” Hannibal said.

“You broke the rule today, so I thought I’d return the favour,” Will replied, approaching Hannibal’s desk. “Besides, it’s important.”

“I didn’t see you for two days,” Hannibal said, sharply. “And you’ve acted like a ghost for five days. I had to take care of the dogs myself. I was scared and worried.”

“I’m really sorry about your nose,” Will said. “Did I really do that much damage?”

“I made it worse when I kissed you,” Hannibal said. “It’s fine. It hardly hurts.”

Will leaned on Hannibal’s desk, staring at the back of the tablet rather than talking. He noticed Hannibal folded his hands together before he said, “Is there something I can help you with, Will?”

“You were right. I needed a step back.” Will paused, glancing up at Hannibal and then back to his desk before he continued, “I just can’t let this guy go. I can’t turn away from it.”

“You can’t solve the world’s problems, Will.”

“I can solve this one. I can.”

Hannibal sighed and leaned back in his chair.

Will continued, “Don’t make me choose between this and you.”

“I wouldn’t. I already said I’m not leaving.”

Will gave Hannibal a hard stare as he said, “This is more important than us. I will throw it all away to solve it. I can’t look away.”

“I think you’re making this about choosing between me and your work,” Hannibal said. “I merely came into your office because I worried you weren’t eating or sleeping.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“We already know you can’t, Will.”

Will flinched and backed away from Hannibal’s desk. He sat down on one of Hannibal’s sofas. The doctor followed him and sat beside him. Will said, “I’m going to leave to investigate this case. It might put me back on the So-Called’s radar, but I can’t work from here. I need to be there. I need to know the victims.”

“All right.”

Will didn’t say anything further. Hannibal’s warm hand enveloped his own, and Hannibal’s other arm wrapped around his back while his hand lifted his bangs to touch his forehead. He pulled Will gently against him with his lips brushing against his temple and his injured nose resting in his hair.

“You’re not going to let me come with you, are you, Will?”

“It’s safer for you here.”

“You have to call me every night and talk to me – really talk to me,” Hannibal said. “And I’ll expect some serious attention when you get back.”

Will simply squeezed Hannibal’s hand.

“By serious attention I mean serious head,” Hannibal said. “Oral sex every morning and night for a week, at least.”

Will laughed weakly. “You’d be too tired for it after the first day.”

“Maybe,” Hannibal said, “but a man can dream, can’t he?”

“Are you afraid?”

“A little.”

“I won’t slip back again,” Will said. “I won’t hurt you – or myself. Jack will be there.”

“I’ve already seen the changes in you,” Hannibal said. “I’m worried about what ghosts you’ll bring back with you.”

“You’ll scare them away. You always do.”

“Are you certain you don’t want me to come with you, Will?”

“No, but I think it’ll be for the best.”

“You can change your mind anytime,” Hannibal said. “I’ll be there.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute.”

“I believe the correct reply is, ‘Thank you. I appreciate your endless support Hannibal.’”

Will’s laugh turned stronger, and he gently manoeuvered Hannibal onto his back on the sofa. Will leaned down to kiss him, careful to avoid his nose, and against Hannibal’s lips he murmured, “Thank you.”

The kiss was quick, and Hannibal leaned upwards to draw it out. It was a relief for Will, knowing that Hannibal still wanted to kiss and touch him. Hannibal gently ran his hands down Will’s back and said, “Are you in the mood now?”

“I can be.”

“We should go upstairs,” Hannibal said. “There’s more room on the bed, and we have everything we need up there anyway.”

Smiling, Will kissed under Hannibal’s jaw as he stood up off the couch. Hannibal twined his fingers in with his friend’s as they walked together down the hallway. Before they could walk up the stairs, Hannibal pushed Will against the wall. Pressing his leg between Will’s, he gripped Will’s hair as he leaned over and kissed him. Will squeezed Hannibal’s ass, rubbing his groin against his leg. Hannibal bit the corner of Will’s lower lip, tugging at it before sucking his lower lip and kissing him again.

Unbuttoning his top two buttons, Will broke the kiss to pull off his plaid shirt. He pulled off Hannibal’s suit jacket and tossed it on the ground alongside his shirt. He unbuttoned Hannibal’s vest as the doctor kissed him again. Hannibal’s long fingers rubbed his chest, teasing one of his nipples between two fingers while he pressed his thumb against the other. With Hannibal’s vest undone, Will unbuckled the doctor’s belt and unzipped his trousers to slip his hands down the back of his pants, squeezing his ass and rubbing his fingers between his ass cheeks.

Hannibal kissed under Will’s jaw and then down his neck. When he reached the shoulder blade, he gently brushed his teeth against it, testing the waters to see if Will would allow him to go further. His erection ached, and he kept his leg pressed against Will’s to confirm his partner was still hard. Grabbing Hannibal’s tie at the knot, Will said, “We need to get up these stairs.”

Hannibal pressed his lips back against Will’s as he murmured, “You could fuck me here.”

A pulse shot through Will, and Will let his fingers drift lower on Hannibal’s tie while the other hand rubbed his chest. He wanted to fuck Hannibal on the stairs. He wanted to pull Hannibal back against him and see how raw the doctor’s knees would be afterwards. “I don’t have any lube,” he said. “It’s just one flight.”

He untied Hannibal’s tie as his partner stroked his hair. Cupping Will’s bearded cheeks, Hannibal kissed his forehead. He ran his fingers down his friend’s bare arm before holding his hand and leading his up the stairs. Will tossed Hannibal’s tie behind him.

Despite Will pulling the doctor back by his hips to grind up against him, Hannibal didn’t stop until they reached the bedroom. Will closed the door behind them with his foot, and Hannibal kicked off his pants just before Will pulled him back by his chest. Kissing Hannibal’s neck, Will moved his hands down Hannibal’s chest to his pelvis, curving Hannibal’s body back against his own. Hannibal ground his ass back against Will’s groin, quickly unbuttoning his shirt while Will’s hand slid down his boxers to stroke his cock.

While Hannibal pulled off his shirt and vest, Will kissed his exposed shoulder and back while his free hand moved back up his bare chest. He squeezed Hannibal’s testicles before teasing the underside of his shaft with the tips of his fingers. “You need to undress now,” Hannibal said, squirming against Will’s grip.

“That’s just one doctor’s opinion,” Will murmured.

“This doctor’s opinion is that you need to stop teasing me and get on the bed and fuck me.”

“Are you sure I can fill that prescription?” Will asked, kissed his neck and pressing his thumb against his nipple while using his other thumb to tease the head of his cock.

“You’re the only one who can,” Hannibal said. “Also I would appreciate it if you finished in my ass. If we’re not going to be intimate for a while, I’d like to get the full service.”

“You’re full of demands today.”

“I would like to be full of your ejaculate, but I am getting the impression you’re not interested.”

Will laughed and released Hannibal to take off his own pants. Hannibal pulled off his boxers, and he sat down on the bed as he took off his socks. Will, finally naked, placed his glasses on the nightstand and took the lube off the nightstand to squirt it in his palm and distributed it onto both of his hands. Hannibal kneeled on the bed in front of Will, and Will spread lubricant onto his cock before sliding two fingers between his ass cheeks. With Hannibal pressing back against him, Will used his other hand to feel down Hannibal’s shaft.

Gripping Hannibal at the base of his erection, Will finally pressed a finger into Hannibal’s ass as he started to jerk Hannibal off. Climbing onto the bed, Will kissed between the doctor’s shoulder blades while pressing a second finger in, gently working the opening. Hannibal folded his arms in front of him, turning his head to watch as Will kissed his shoulder and neck. Will kissed Hannibal lightly as he pulled his fingers out, gripping Hannibal’s inner thighs with both of his hands and rubbing his shaft between his ass cheeks.

Hannibal reached back to press the head of Will’s cock into his ass. Will thrusted in, and Hannibal bucked back to urge him further. Will kissed down Hannibal’s back as he increased his rhythm. Tracing his fingers up Hannibal’s chest, Will pumped deeper into his ass. He tried not to pant as Hannibal bucked back against him with a fast, eager pace that he tried to match.

Positioning his torso upright, Will gripped Hannibal’s hips to take control of the pace. He pulled Hannibal back by his hips to slam his shaft in its entirely into his ass, relishing in the way the doctor’s body tensed against him. He repeated the motion faster, keeping more and more of his cock inside each time until he pumped deep into Hannibal ass. He ran his hands back up Hannibal’s chest, kissing his back again as he allowed Hannibal to roughly buck back against him.

Panting, Will kept up the pace, and his toes curled as he neared his limit. He hugged Hannibal to him, digging his nails into his chest as he continued to fuck him roughly. He pumped his cock as deep as he could go as he came into Hannibal’s ass with a groan. Hannibal bucked back against Will’s orgasm, smiling as Will panted against his back.

Will pulled out of Hannibal and dropped onto his back. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing his chest. “Come here and let me suck you off. I want to taste you before I go.”

Straddling Will’s chest, Hannibal took Will’s hands in his own and pinned them above Will’s head. He moved his knees near Will’s armpits and leaned forward so his cock pressed against Will’s lips. His lips parted, kissing the head of his cock. He then opened his mouth to slide Hannibal’s cock into it with his tongue. Hannibal thinned his lips as he gently bucked in Will’s mouth. Sucking Hannibal’s shaft, Will pulled one hand away to squeeze Hannibal’s ass. He watched Hannibal’s expression as he sucked harder, rubbing his fingers between his ass cheeks.

Pressing a finger back into Hannibal’s ass, Will slid Hannibal’s cock out of his mouth to kiss and lick under his shaft. Hannibal moved his hips forward so Will could suck one of his testicles. Licking up Hannibal’s shaft, Will pressed a second finger in, curling them before pumping them quickly inside of him. Hannibal pushed the head of his cock back against Will’s lips, and Will started to suck him again. Hannibal moved his hips, bucking back against Will’s fingers before sliding more of his cock into Will’s mouth. Will watched him, smiling around his shaft. Hannibal panted and squirmed.

Hannibal let out a grunt and then a groan as he started to climax, and Will pressed his thumb behind Hannibal’s testicles, stroking the skin as he held his fingers deep inside of him. Hannibal bucked into Will’s mouth as he shot his load into his mouth, and Will pulled his other hand away from Hannibal to jerk him off as he sucked him clean.

“You’re remarkably beautiful,” Hannibal said, dropping to the bed next to Will.

Will cuddled up beside Hannibal, feeling the doctor’s fingers tilt his chin upwards before kissing him lightly and then deeper. His arms encircled Will, holding him tightly as Will nuzzled into his shoulder. Will hugged him back, squeezing his eyes shut as he breathed him in.

“I’ll miss you,” Hannibal whispered. “Not just the sex. I’ll miss just knowing you’re here, quietly working in the house, playing with the dogs, fishing on the beach. The silence will be different without you.”

“I won’t be long.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I’ll miss you more,” Will said. “I’ll be in some cheap hotel with a small bed and scratchy sheets. Every smell will be unfamiliar.”

“This isn’t making me feel any better,” Hannibal said. “I’ll cancel my appointments. Let me come with you.”

“I don’t know.”

“I do.”

Will opened his eyes, thinking of the way Hannibal shoved him to the floor. He thought of the determination and frustration in his eyes as he kissed him then.

“I think we need the space,” Will said.

Hannibal loosened his grip on Will. “All right,” he said. “I trust you to know what you need.”

“You don’t though, not really.”

Hannibal wasn’t sure if Will was teasing him or making a serious accusation. “In this scenario,” he corrected, “I trust you to know what you need from me.”

Will smiled against his shoulder. He smiled into Will’s hair. He tightened his grip again.

Hannibal dreamt of nothing, and he awoke to Will shuddering and whispering under his breath next to him. He lightly twisted his fingers in with Will, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb and murmured, “I’m here, Will. I’m right here.”

Will twitched and tried to pull his hand away. His whispers turned angry, louder, though Hannibal couldn’t quite make out the words. He kept his grip on Will and repeated, “I’m here Will.”

Will stopped, and then his body turned limp and his breaths continued at a quiet and steady pace. Hannibal wasn’t certain Will would awake, he didn’t always, but he gently pulled Will’s sweaty body against his own, wrapping his arms around him. He pressed his injured nose into his hair and breathed his friend in. One hand stayed twined with Will’s while the other pressed against his heart. His heartbeat felt quick. He kissed his hair before saying again, “I’m here Will.”

Will stirred, and he turned his head to look at Hannibal before resting it back on the pillow. He pressed back against his body, untwisting his hand from Hannibal’s to stretch. Hannibal kissed the back of his neck and rubbed his chest. Will turned around in Hannibal’s arms, folding his hands against his chest and nuzzling his splint. Hannibal kissed him lightly.

“When this is over,” Will said, “I think we should go away somewhere.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“We could buy a boat and go sailing for a while. We could just get away from everything.”

“How long are you thinking?”

“One or two years. Alana might take the dogs.”

Hannibal chuckled, and when Will frowned, he said, “You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“I realize that being completely isolated is something you can live with – desire, even – but I am a social animal. I like being around people, Will.”

“You’ll have me.”

“And I adore you, but I am not sure I can spend an entire year completely isolated from humanity on a boat with you.”

“We’d have to dock sometime. Get supplies.”

Hannibal sighed, and Will lightly ran his fingers down his chest, absently tugging at the chest hair there. Hannibal said, “What did you dream of?”

“Killing Abigail Hobbs.”

“It’s been a while since you had that nightmare, hasn’t it?”

Will nodded. “The three of us were having dinner like a family. I was cutting the meat with a scalpel. I think it was ham. I put a few slices on each of our plates and then walked over and slit Abigail’s throat. You observed the wine was dry.”

“Was it red?”

“Blood red. Almost black.”

Hannibal rubbed Will’s back. Will stared at his lips.

Will said, “Are you trying to figure out what wine it is?”

“No.”

“You are.”

“A little bit, yes.”

Hannibal smiled and Will returned it before he said, “I think it was supposed to be blood. It lingered on your lips when you drank from it.”

“What do you think that means?” Hannibal asked. “Am I often in your dreams like that?”

“Your dreams usually make me sweat in a different way,” Will said, squeezing his ass.

Will kissed his lower lip, sucking it as he pulled away. He rubbed Hannibal’s chest again, pressing his thumbs against his nipples. Hannibal said, “You’re trying to change the subject.”

“I am.” Will kissed under his chin and then down his neck.

Hannibal said, “What do you think it means if I indifferently watch you kill people in your dreams? Usually we talk things out together – brainstorm. I’m not indifferent.”

Sighing, Will stopped kissing Hannibal and put his head back on the pillow to face him. Again, he concentrated more on Hannibal’s lips. “Why are you focussing on this?” Will asked.

“I’m worried it says something about how you see me.”

“I think it says something about how I treat you,” Will said. “I expect you to participate in my mistakes. A dinner with you always suggests a certain kind of show and ceremony, and I know that after we eat, we clear the table and clean the dishes together. When Abigail went limp, her head fell onto the plate.”

Hannibal sighed and hugged Will to him. Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s back and tucked his head underneath Hannibal’s. The doctor stroked his hair and back. Hannibal almost laughed. He thought Will’s subconscious might be piecing together his identity, but instead it reinforced Will’s fear of becoming a killer.

“It won’t happen again,” Hannibal said. “You’re healthy and in control.”

“You understand why I have to see this case through, right?” Will replied.

“You feel as though you killed a child. If you save more children from a serial killer targeting them, you think you’ll feel free of Abigail Hobbs.”

“You keep saying I feel and I think.”

“I don’t think Abigail Hobbs’ ghost is ever going to leave you, Will.”

“But you understand I have to try, right?”

“Yes,” Hannibal replied. “I understand.”

Will said nothing further, and Hannibal didn’t press him for anything else. Will folded his hands against Hannibal’s chest, and the doctor continued to stroke his hair. Will’s eyelashes fluttered against his neck as he failed to fall back to sleep. Will turned around in his arms, pressing his back against Hannibal’s chest and pulled the blankets tighter around them. Hannibal tightened his grip on Will, and Will’s body relaxed against his. It was the first sign that Will would fall asleep again.

Hannibal awoke to the sound of their doorbell. He checked the clock – a perfectly reasonable 10:30am – and looked at Will sleeping a short distance away from him. Will stirred when the doorbell switched to a loud pounding. Hannibal slipped out from under the covers and put on a pair of boxers.

“Is that the door?” Will murmured.

“I’ll get it,” Hannibal whispered as he threw on a robe. “Go back to sleep.”

Will sleepily nodded and pulled the blankets tighter around him while he curled into the fetal position. Hannibal closed the door behind him as he left the bedroom and walked down the stairs. He noted their clothes from the day before, but he ignored them. The knocking continued.

Hannibal considered how rude it was to keep it up like this. He heard them. They could give it a rest anytime now.

Once he reached the door, he took a moment out to smooth out his hair, knowing they could see his shadow hesitating at the doorway. They could wait another minute.

Hannibal opened the door to a tanned and smiling Ian Wagner. Freckles seemed to be the major side-effect of his tan. Hannibal said nothing, and he wasn’t ready to admit he felt vulnerable in his robe and boxer shorts and nose splint. He could fight him, but if Ian came equipped with a weapon, there would be more of a fight for him. Ian Wagner wouldn’t kill him on his doorstep, would he? Anyway, Will was the one in danger. He hoped Will fell back to sleep – unaware of the unwanted visitor.

Ian stepped in without a word, and Hannibal frowned, waiting for the man to make any move he could counter. He supposed he should have shoved him back outside and slammed the door in his face.

“Are you here to make an appointment with me?” Hannibal asked.

“Are you offering?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have time?”

“Later tonight,” Hannibal said. “I am free at Eight-thirty.”

“I didn’t realize you saw patients that late,” Ian replied.

“I’ll make an exception.”

Hannibal turned his head as Will approached with a sheepish smile on his face. He wore an immodestly small pair of boxer-briefs and a tight t-shirt on backwards. He clearly left the bed in a rush without his glasses but with his short, brown hair standing up on one side. “Sorry,” Will said, wrapping an arm around Hannibal’s back. “I completely forgot about our brunch.”

Hannibal watched as Will rubbed the doctor’s chest. Usually his partner made little effort to touch him in public, but he made a point of touching him here. When Hannibal and Will went out together, usually it was the doctor who wrapped an arm around Will’s back, tousled his hair, held his hand, or respected his space if Will gave him a particularly cold stare. Will generally failed to make the effort.

And in front of Ian Wagner, Will’s hands seemed glued to him.

“I guess you two have met then,” Will continued. “Hans introduced himself to you, right Aaron?”

“Yes,” Ian said, smiling politely at Hannibal.

Hannibal thinned his lips. If Ian was Will’s faithful friend Aaron, why hadn’t he killed him already? He realized Ian waited to see if Hannibal would call him on his identity, but his curiosity got the better of him. He replied, “I never fail to be polite, Will.”

He put his arm around his partner and kissed the top of his head, keeping his eyes on Ian. Ian’s obtuse smile stayed on his face. Blank. Unreadable.

“Are you up for brunch?” Will asked Hannibal. “I forgot to mention it to you yesterday.”

“I’m really quite flattered I’m such a high priority,” Ian said.

Hannibal began to hate his smile.

“I’m really sorry,” Will said, his smile weak and crooked.

“I can go,” Ian said. “You just said you’ll be leaving and I didn’t want to miss you go.”

“Oh no, you’re staying for brunch,” Will said. “Hans might just rather hide in his office while we have it.” He put his arm back around Hannibal and said, “What do you say?”

“I’ll stay,” Hannibal said. “I’ll cook for both of you.”

“Oh no, I’d hate to put you out,” Ian said. “I brought eggs and sausage.”

Hannibal took the grocery bag from Ian’s hand. “You purchased the food and I’ll cook it, that way we’ve both contributed to the meal. Except for Will, who will contribute with delightful conversation.”

“He’ll contribute enough if he stays in what he’s wearing now,” Ian said, grinning.

Hannibal knew that smile all too well. He frowned when he saw the heat rush to Will’s cheeks. “I’ll, uh, get a robe,” Will said. “Can you let the dogs out, Hans? We’ll eat in the kitchen so we can watch you cook.”

“Sure,” Hannibal said. “This way, Aaron.”

Ian followed Hannibal into the kitchen, and the latter noted how familiar the strays were with Ian. They didn’t growl or snarl. They didn’t tense up or politely smelled him. They greeted him as an old friend with licks, yaps, invasive sniffs, and head butts. Ian’s laugh reminded him of Will, and he petted the strays in a manner similar to his friend.

He thought of Will coming back into the kitchen with a gun to shoot Ian with. If Will shot him in the eye, the blood would spray across both of them, and the bullet would lodge into the wall. They could rent a boat and drop the body into the sea. Will would think fish would eat the corpse in its entirety. How perfect.

Hannibal let the dogs out and motioned to a stool for Ian to take a seat on. The kitchen had a bar on the side opposite of the stove. Hannibal tore out the kitchen before Will moved in, and he installed the bar specifically so people could watch him cook. He enjoyed sneaking kisses from Will as he made the eggs. He loved Will sleepily watching him as he fried the sausage.

And now there was the invasive Ian. The two men said nothing to each other, but Ian’s polite smile failed to waver. Hannibal wondered if Ian’s face would break if he stopped smiling. Would all his emotions suddenly pour out? Would he reveal too much of his plan?

At least now Hannibal had knives at his disposal. He would prepare, too, for their meeting later. He doubted he would be in danger. Of course, Ian was more interested in him, though he did wonder why he hadn’t drowned Will. Hannibal thought several times of how easy it would be for Will to fall off the side of the cliff he fished on, and how his body would be mangled in the rocks. He mentioned it to Dr. Du Maurier a few times. He mentioned it to Jack once. He thought it might be an easy way to disguise his death.

Why hadn’t Ian seen it? Did Ian want to kill Will in front of him?

He thought of the dead bodies Ian courted him with. He wished he had seen them in person instead of through photographs in The Tattler.

With his glasses on and curly hair organized, Will returned in a robe and took the seat next to Ian. Hannibal watched the way Will and Ian talked to one another. They already had jokes Hannibal didn’t quite follow, and he just smiled and nodded when Will actually laughed aloud. It bothered him that Ian had smitten Will this way. He knew Will wouldn’t leave him – Abigail’s death would keep Will bound to him – but he still disliked the way Ian played him.

Hannibal tried to make a show of cooking, but neither Will nor Ian could stop talking or glancing at the other long enough to fully appreciate him. So he gave up and cooked as he would for himself. (There was always a certain amount of show involved. It was an art, after all.)

Ian and Will spoke as though they had been friends for years instead of weeks, and Hannibal felt like their chef as they began to eat. Will made little effort to include him, and Ian made even less of one. Hannibal couldn’t help but notice the chemistry between them. He tried to remember everything Will had said about him before – things Will said while he was reading or working or just ignoring him. Will said he liked how Ian and he could just be quiet, but he also liked how their conversations seemed to just flow together, just like with him and Hannibal.

They joked and laughed. Once Will squeezed Hannibal’s hand. Twice he playfully shoved Ian’s shoulder. Ian’s eyes seemed to eat Will alive. If he hadn’t confessed to Hannibal that he had a crush on him and killed men for him, Hannibal would have suspected Ian wanted Will.

Before Hannibal cleared the plates, he put a hand on Will’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. Will surprised him by putting his hand on Hannibal’s chin to kiss him directly, sucking on his lower lip as he pulled away. Possessive – that’s how Will acted. He wondered why. Had Ian said something to him?

It was the first time he saw Ian frown. He only left it up for a moment. A chink in his armor. Nonetheless, Hannibal cleared the plates and began to wash them with the pair present. Both men protested, but Hannibal insisted. He liked to keep busy, and the conversation wasn’t enough to keep him interested.

But he couldn’t leave Will alone with him.

When Hannibal started scrubbing the frying pan, Ian began to excuse himself. With his dish gloves still equipped, Hannibal followed the pair to the front door. The goodbyes were quick. Will said he’d try to keep in touch. Ian said he would call him. After an awkward pause, the two shook hands, conscious of the space between them. Hannibal watched Ian rub his thumb on the back of Will’s palm.

When Hannibal shook his hand with a “nice to meet you,” Ian failed to flirt with him in the same way. A strong, stiff handshake. Hannibal returned it in kind.

And Ian left with his smile weakening and a “see you” on his lips.

With the door open and the screen door closed, Will watched Ian walked away, and he waved back when Ian turned around to wave. Hannibal leaned against the wall and watched Will. When Will closed the door, he said to Hannibal, “I think I’m going to look at the cases with some fresh eyes.”

“You don’t want to talk to me about Aaron?”

“What’s there to say?” Will said.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going to call Jack and then I’ll be in my office.”

Hannibal put his hands on Will’s hips, drawing his friend closer. “Are you sure you don’t want to shower with me first?”

Will’s eyes dropped to the ground. “I can’t. Not now. I mean, I can help you – if you want, but-”

“No, it’s fine. It’s all fine.” Hannibal hugged Will to him, one hand around his back and the other twisting through his hair. He kissed the top of his head. Will squeezed him back. Hannibal continued, “You could shower with me and just be with me.”

“I really want to get some work done. Maybe later if I need a break?”

“I’m not going to wait to shower, Will.”

“Maybe you’ll shower again?”

Hannibal chuckled. “Sure. Okay.”

The pair parted, and Hannibal spent the majority of his day seeing patients in his office. He checked on Will on his breaks, and while Will answered him at his office door, he was distracted and agitated. Hannibal wondered how far Will would have to be pushed before he would confide in him and ask for help like he used to. He missed that aspect of their old relationship.

He wondered why Will failed to open up with him as he let Ian Wagner into his office. Distracted, Hannibal politely shook hands with Ian, and before he had the opportunity to eloquently ask Ian what his deal was, he saw the doctor draw a needle out of his arm. Hannibal wondered how his keen eyes had missed it. The handshake? He grabbed a chair to steady himself.

His mind whirled and he struggled to remain conscious. He took a step towards Ian, reaching out to harm him anyway he could.

He fell to his knees instead.

He lost consciousness.

When he awoke, he found himself nude and bound tightly to a chair. A gag was tied tightly around his mouth. He wondered if Ian lovingly removed his clothes, tore them off, or thought nothing of it. Did he get off more with him naked than clothed? Or was it just easier to work with him in the nude?

“You’re awake,” Ian said. “Perfect.”

He offered no explanation as he approached Hannibal with the scalpel. Hannibal needed none. He understood. Ian’s other romance wasn’t Hannibal’s violent side. Ian developed an obsessive crush on Will Graham. He tried to warn Will about Hannibal – a killer stealing his heart and leaving him dead. Hannibal’s death was his gift to Will.

And Ian wanted to feel Hannibal’s heart stop in his hand.

Then he would create an art piece out of Hannibal’s corpse.

Ian made a careful incision, and Hannibal tried to hide the pain. He didn’t want to give Ian the satisfaction. Ian’s gloved hand penetrated the wound, and Hannibal winced.

A knock on the door.

Ian hesitated.

Another knock.

“I know you’re not with a patient,” Will said. “It’s too late. If you’re giving me the silent treatment because I wouldn’t shower with you, well, I want to shower with you now.”

Hannibal shouted out through the gag. It was muffled, but it was enough for Will who listened carefully at the door.

Ian cursed as Will opened the door. “I can explain everything,” Ian said.

Will looked from Hannibal tied up in the chair to Ian with the bloody scalpel in his hand. Will took the scalpel out of his hand. Hannibal noted how Will’s fingers lingered on Ian’s hand.

“It’s for you,” Ian said. “You don’t understand what he is.”

Hannibal saw it. A delicious darkness passed through Will’s blue eyes.

“He’s mine,” Will said through clenched teeth.

“No-“

Will sliced Ian’s throat with the scalpel. Hannibal watched the blood pour out. He watched it cover Will’s hands and face. Hannibal licked his lips. He wondered if it was just like how Will dreamed of killing Abigail Hobbs. Was that why he could do it with such ease?

Turning the scalpel between his fingers, Will let Ian’s body drop as he walked to the phone on Hannibal’s desk. He called the police, speaking mechanically. Then he approached Hannibal and took off his gag.

“Knock over some things,” Hannibal said, quickly. “Make it look like a struggle.”

Will put his bloody hands on his shoulders. With blood-splattered lips, he kissed Hannibal. Hard. Deep. He twisted his fingers through Hannibal’s hair and continued to kiss him. With his arms and legs bound, Hannibal couldn’t do much but kiss back and smile. Hannibal Lecter couldn’t have been happier.


	9. Chapter 9

“You need to think things through, Will.”

Will untied Hannibal’s wrists without replying.

“You’ll be arrested for this even though it’s self-defence. You’re not an FBI agent. Jack can’t protect you. You could get manslaughter.”

“That’s fine,” Will said, untying Hannibal at the ankles. “What can I grab to put pressure on your stomach? Do you have any gauze?”

Hannibal made a motion to stand up, but Will pushed him back down in the chair as he saw blood ooze out of the wound. Pointing to his desk, Hannibal said, “I have gauze in the middle drawer on the left side.”

Will went behind the desk and opened the drawer on the right side. He saw sketches of himself. Sleeping. Reading. Fishing. There were several muscle studies where he had no skin. There was one where he masturbated, but he had skin in that one. He smiled absently and then tried the drawer on the other side of the desk.

“They will take you away if they find him,” Hannibal said while Will went through the drawer. “Tell the police it was a mistake. I heard you on the phone – you just said there was a break-in. We could say I came home early from a vacation and startled you. They’ll circle the house once to make sure everything is fine, and then we can dispose of the body.”

Will kneeled next to Hannibal with the gauze and surgical tape. “Like you disposed of Abigail Hobbs’ body after I killed her?” Will patched up the wound, watching Hannibal wince as he put pressure against it. “No, I’m having a hard enough time sleeping at night as it is.”

“Will, your hands are shaking.”

“Of course they’re shaking.”

Ian Wagner wheezed.

“Hannibal he’s still alive,” Will said, standing up. “We have to save him.”

Will pressed Hannibal’s hand on his wound before going back behind the desk. “I’ll try to slow down the bleeding. He’ll be okay.”

Hannibal went silent as Will took out more gauze and approached Ian. Ian’s eyes watched Will sleepily. His lips moved. Will pressed the gauze against the wound, holding his hand tightly in place. “It’s not that bad,” he murmured to Ian. “Just a scratch.”

Ian Wagner’s lips continued to move.

Hannibal said, “Will, he heard what you said.”

“What did I say?”

“About Abigail Hobbs.”

Ian shook his head, and he raised his hand to motion for Will to lean closer. He smiled at Will with blood between his teeth. Will thought of the nights and morning he spent with this man. He remembered the long conversations and the comfortable silences they shared. He thought of the one time when he tripped, Ian grabbed his arm to steady him. His grip was strong, solid. He thought of how easy it would have been for Ian to kill him then – a simple shove would have sent him off the cliff – and how easily it would have been considered an accident.

But Ian had tied Hannibal to a chair and tried to kill him.

He killed at least two men who looked like Will and stole their hearts.

Nonetheless, Will leaned his ear closer to Ian’s bloody lips, half expecting the man to bite it off. Ian wheezed again, and warm blood splattered against Will’s ear. Ian’s voice was only a hoarse whisper as he said, “You didn’t kill her.”

“Move Will.”

Will looked up to see Hannibal on his feet. Hannibal raised his stag statue above his head only to slam it down against Ian Wagner’s skull.

Will’s voice came out raised, almost a scream: “What are you doing?”

Hannibal slammed it down once more for good measure.

Will stood up and pulled his partner away. “Hannibal! You’re not thinking clearly.”

“Now we’re tied together, Will,” Hannibal said, dropping the statue and smiling. He clutched his wound. “If they arrest you, they’ll arrest me too. We’ll have our trials together. We’ll serve time together, or we’ll be released together.”

Will started hard at Hannibal as Hannibal smoothed out his hair with his bloody hand.

Hannibal said, “Or we can hide the body together.”

Will pinched the bridge of his nose, and Hannibal rubbed his shoulders. He purred, “You know you can’t take the blame for this. I won’t let you take the blame alone.”

“Why did you kill him?” Will asked.

“He wouldn’t have survived. The police were coming, not an ambulance. And he heard what you said about Abigail Hobbs. He could have brought both of us down, and he tried to kill me, Will. I’ll admit I was angry with him for that, but we don’t have time to talk about this. Decide now, Will. Hide him or turn ourselves in.”

Will sighed and looked at the smashed-in face of Ian Wagner.

“We could do time for a man who mutilated two gay men, and god knows what else,” Hannibal said. “And remember Will, they still haven’t found the copycat. They could still try to pin that on you, especially with Abigail Hobbs missing. They could still put you in an institution, and then we won’t even serve time together. We won’t even see each other.”

“You wanted to kill him,” Will said.

“He wanted to kill me.”

“You want to hide the body.”

“Yes, but I will respect your opinion.”

Will sighed and relaxed against Hannibal’s grip. “Hannibal, I can’t go through this again. I can’t have this on my conscience. I can’t have another ghost follow me.”

“Ian Wagner will haunt you no matter where you go,” Hannibal said, wrapping his arms around Will’s waist. “He will follow you to court, to prison, to an institution. It is my job to protect you from him, and I cannot do that if we are separated. I won’t go to an institution with you. My mind is sound.”

“I can’t do this again,” Will said, “but I can’t let you go to prison because of me either. I never wanted to drag you down with me.”

“I don’t care where I am so long as I’m with you, Will.”

Nodding weakly, Will replied, “Okay, let’s get cleaned up and dressed before the police arrive. You have blood in your hair.”

Hannibal kept a hold on Will. “Don’t do something you will regret.”

“It’s too late for that,” Will said. “We have to get ready.”

Hannibal turned off the lights in his office and tossed a blanket over Ian’s body in case the police looked in the windows while Will called back the police station to inform them it was a false alarm, though the pair knew the police would be out anyway to double check. Will and Hannibal washed up and changed quickly. Hannibal threw on a robe while Will stripped out of his bloody clothes and Hannibal gave him a robe to put on after washing his hands and face.

Putting his arm around Will, Hannibal admired him and Will in the mirror. “We just look like a harmless old couple.”

Will didn’t recognize their reflections. Will thought he could see through his own image. He wasn’t even real anymore, and Hannibal’s arm was held up by dust in the air. Hannibal carried a calm, almost proud smile. He fixed his hair as his smile stayed strong. Will considered how it didn’t look fake. He seemed genuinely happy. Hannibal was a happy person, sure, but if there was ever a time to fake happiness, it was now. And what had Ian said to him before Hannibal smashed his face in?

“You knew his full name.”

“What?”

“You called him Ian Wagner. Was that Aaron’s real name?”

Hannibal’s smile faded. “We should discuss this after, but yes, that was his name.”

“You knew him.”

“He was a patient of mine. I arrogantly thought he was obsessed with me, but it turns out he was obsessed with you. In love with you, actually. Come, we should go downstairs for when the police arrive.”

As Will followed Hannibal, he said, “Did he say all of this to you before he tried to kill you?”

“No, I jumped to some conclusions,” Hannibal said. “He told me he read The Tattler, which is probably how he knew of you. He must have wrongly assumed you read The Tattler and thought you’d see the photographs there. Or maybe he just wanted to get your attention.”

“He could have just approached me and talked to me,” Will said. “It worked for Aaron.”

“I don’t think he would have been happy being Aaron. I think he was attracted to you because you could have understood him as the killer he was.” Hannibal sat down on the bottom step, wincing and pressing his hand against his wound. As Will sat beside him, he continued, “Like Eldon Stammets, he saw the opportunity for a connection.”

“I am not a killer.”

“He saw you kill Abigail Hobbs.”

Will remembered Ian’s moving lips. His words pressed up against his ear again as if he was still alive. He didn’t kill her. He glanced at Hannibal and then said, “Maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe he had these desires and saw how I could potentially have these desires too, but didn’t act on them. Maybe he thought I could save him and help him.”

He tried to remember what Ian told him before he sliced his throat. The whole exchange was an angry blur. The hate and fear rose up in him and took control. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand. Kissing Hannibal snapped him out of it. Hannibal always anchored him to reality.

Ian said that he didn’t understand what Hannibal was. Ian said that he didn’t kill Abigail Hobbs.

Hannibal wrapped his arm around Will’s shoulders and said, “I honestly hadn’t considered that.”

Will relaxed in Hannibal’s grip and rested his head on his partner’s shoulder. He wondered if Ian was trying to save him from Hannibal. He wondered if Ian’s victims meant that the Chesapeake Ripper stole his heart. A wave of nausea enveloped Will, and, despite himself, he clutched the front of Hannibal’s robe for balance.

“Everything will be fine,” Hannibal said, stroking Will’s hair. “It’ll work out, you’ll see.”

Will wished he had someone else to latch onto, and he wished latching onto Hannibal didn’t feel so safe and warm.

When the police arrived, Hannibal easily charmed them with the story of how his broken nose disguised his appearance in the dark and made Will think someone had broken in. Will tried to make his discomfort look more like sheepish guilt, and the police finally left their property after circling the house and knocking on the door once more to check in. Hannibal knew the routine. Hannibal knew the routine very well.

Once they were certain the police left, Hannibal stitched up his stomach with Will’s help. Will’s hands shook too much to be much use, but luckily the cut was at an angle that Hannibal could manage mainly on his own, though he admitted he might leave a messier scar than someone else would. Will wondered how Hannibal could tolerate so much pain, and a large part of him wanted to forget everything Ian had said and simply curl up in bed with Hannibal.

But would serial killers keep arriving on their doorsteps? Would Hannibal keep asking him to hide bodies?

He lightly touched his lips as he considered how Hannibal kissed him after he sliced Ian Wagner’s throat. Would Will need to keep killing to protect them both? Would he start to lose himself in fear and rage?

Hannibal suggested burying Ian’s body in the root cellar until they could move him to a better location, and Will volunteered to do most of the labour alone so Hannibal’s stitches wouldn’t tear open. Hannibal built the root cellar on the side of their home before Will arrived, and Will wondered if he would find another body while digging. As he thought more about it, he doubted Hannibal would hide a body so close to his own home. He was smart. Will knew that.

Will grabbed his office chair with wheels and put Ian’s body, wrapped in a blanket, onto the chair. Hannibal kept the body steady and kept the dogs out of the way as Will pushed the chair, and once they got out the back door, Will had to lift the chair in several places to keep it from getting stuck. His dark blue robe clung to him with sweat, and Will remembered how the robe was a gift from Hannibal. Dark blue – so it wouldn’t leave a silhouette against the sky.

Bile rose in Will’s throat as he dug a hole, and when Hannibal urged him to dig deeper, Will reminded him they would be moving the body again shortly and he didn’t want to spend hours exhuming the body. Will put Ian Wagner’s body into the ground and was thankful he couldn’t see his face. He had liked Ian. He had liked Ian a lot. But he loved Hannibal, and if what Ian tried to tell him was true, Hannibal was a lot worse than Ian.

He realized as he looked at Ian Wagner’s corpse that this was the first time he admitted to himself that he loved Hannibal.

The two barely spoke as Will buried the body. Will listened to the waves and to the sound of the shovel moving earth.

The sky began to change colour for the sun’s arrival as Will and Hannibal left the root cellar with the office chair and shovel in tow. Will kept both in the kitchen and started to walk upstairs. Hannibal followed him, and when Hannibal’s hand twined with his own, Will didn’t pull away. He even smiled softly.

“Are you all right, Will?”

“No,” Will said, “but I will be. Just let me shower alone, all right? Are you going to shower, or are you just going to go to bed?”

“I think I’ll just go to bed.”

“I’ll try not to wake you when I go to bed.”

“I’ll be awake,” Hannibal said. “Don’t worry.”

Will squeezed Hannibal’s hand. Hannibal pulled him into a hug before they reached the bedroom. He then stroked Will’s cheeks and brushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead to softly kiss him there. Will hugged Hannibal tighter and buried his face in his chest. Hannibal kissed the side of his head.

Will pulled away and grabbed a fresh sleep shirt and boxers to change into after he showered. He grabbed his bloody clothes and carried them into the bathroom with him. He closed the door behind him. He started the shower water and took his phone out of his pocket. He turned the sound off on his phone and texted Beverly.

“Start connecting dots. Do not reply.”

He deleted the message from his sent folder and put his phone back into his pocket. He then took off his robe as he stepped into the shower. He watched all the dirt and grime swirl down the drain and tried to keep his mind from wandering.

He looked forward to dropping into Hannibal’s arms. He wanted a soft kiss before the nightmares pulled him away. He knew there would be nightmares. A headache started to drill into his temple, though he was surprised it just started now. He stepped out of the shower and haphazardly dried off. When he stepped out of the bathroom and flicked off the light, he headed out of the dark bedroom as well.

“Where are you going Will?”

“I was just going to grab a drink from my office to help me sleep.”

“Don’t start into that habit,” Hannibal said. “Come here.”

Will hesitated. He rubbed his mouth and then turned around to bed. Once he crawled under the sheets, he curled up into Hannibal’s arms. Tucking his head under the doctor’s chin, Will folded his arms against his chest. Hannibal hugged him tightly. “I won’t let go,” Hannibal said.

Will wondered if he needed to be afraid of that.

As Will tried to sleep, he thought of how he would never go fishing with Ian again. He had doubted he would see Ian again after he left Florida, but now, obviously, there was a certainty to it. Before he thought there was the chance that Ian would come back again in a decade or so, when his blond hair turned grey and when laugh lines formed around his eyes. Maybe he would bring a partner or kids or a dog with him. And they would sit on that rock and fish with the same comfortable silence they had when they first met.

Will wondered now if they had always felt like old friends because Ian had changed himself for him, and he wondered if he was a fool for doubting it. He thought that the reason why Ian liked him was because of how similar they were and because how they seemed like old friends.

And he realized in Hannibal’s arms that Ian’s death didn’t haunt him. As much as he regretted letting his anger and fear consume him, he didn’t feel like Ian had sunk his claws into him. Ian was still his friend Aaron, and even as he lay dying on the floor, he tried to help and protect Will. He thought of Garret Jacob Hobbs’ last words. Ian helped him see. Ian spoke and opened his eyes.

He saw. He saw it all very clearly.

And yet he lingered in Hannibal’s arms and he felt safe. He didn’t see Hannibal frown and close his eyes as he breathed in Will’s hair. Hannibal suspected Will now knew the truth about him, but he couldn’t decide what Will’s next move would be. The way his friend settled naturally into his arms and nuzzled into his chest suggested he still cared about him.

But he adored Ian and still slit his throat when he saw his true colours.

So Hannibal plotted out his plans for the following day as Will Graham fell asleep in his arms. He smiled when Will stirred restlessly, and he tightened his grip in response.

Will walked out the back door and looked out over the shoreline. He found it difficult to keep his head upright, and he moved his shoulders to control the direction of his head. Despite his frustration, he didn’t question this.

He saw a figure out on the end of his dock, fishing. As Will walked across the beach to meet the figure, he found his feet sinking into the sand. When he pulled his foot out, the sand clung to him like tar. Despite the hard tug of the sand, Will moved forward, still struggling to keep his head upright and focussed. The dock groaned under his weight, but it didn’t try to pull him back like the sand did.

When Will walked along the dock, his footsteps echoed on the wind, and he failed to hear the waves despite how they crashed next to him. The figure at the end of the dock refused to grow nearer to him even though he walked closer to it. He increased his pace to a jog with his head lolling to the left, and he squinted to keep his vision clear as the boards creaked under his weight.

He heard the wood splinter and crack, and Will turned to a full-out run as the dock collapsed behind him, but as he put weight down on the foot ahead of him, he fell through the dock, and he grasped the planks in front of him to keep falling into the water. His head only looked down, and the water crashed at least ten stories beneath him. His sweaty hands started to slip into the wood.

Just as he tried to decide how to survive the fall, he found a strong hand wrap around his wrist. His head refused to look upwards, and it only showed him the fall from different angles. Another hand wrapped around his other wrist. The hands easily lifted Will back onto the dock. It was stable, and he was finally at the edge. The water was back only a few feet below them.

Two warm fingers pressed under his chin to raise his head, and he saw the smiling, bearded face of Ian Wagner. All in one piece. Healthy. Happy. “Ready to fish?” he asked.

“Yes,” Will said. “Thank you for grabbing me back there.”

“It was nothing,” Ian said. “Come on, sit with me.”

The two men sat at the edge of the dock, and Will’s fishing equipment sat beside him when he looked for it. Ian always looked well-built and strong, and he had always absently wondered if Ian could toss him over his shoulder and carry him around while he laughed. The pair fished for a while in silence. Static filled the silence. Will still didn’t hear the waves, but it wasn’t disconcerting. He tried to clean his ear with his finger.

“I had the strangest dream that I killed you,” Will said.

“For Hannibal?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you think I wanted to kill him?” Ian asked.

“I don’t know,” Will said. “Hannibal thinks out of jealousy.”

“But?”

“But I thought maybe you were trying to protect me from him.”

“Why do you need to be protected from him?” Ian asked. “I thought he was the perfect partner for you, if it wasn’t for his pretentious side.”

“He is,” Will said. “We make up for each other’s faults. He’s outgoing and friendly, I’m closed-off and mumble.”

“You hunt serial killers and he’s,” Ian’s voice trailed off.

“He kills people, doesn’t he?”

“He killed me, didn’t he?”

“I killed you.”

“You sliced my throat. Hannibal smashed my skull in.”

“You’re really dead, aren’t you?”

Will tried to face Ian, but he couldn’t raise his head. He only saw Ian’s long fingers encircling a fishing rod. He saw his own hands, but his fishing rod wasn’t there. Looking to the edge of the dock, he edged closer to it and looked into the pool.

In the pool’s reflection he saw Ian’s smashed-in face. One side of his face was caved in completely, leaving a seemingly empty socket watching him. Nonetheless, Ian smiled at him. Blood leaked out from his slit throat and the corner of his mouth. Will turned to the pool to look at himself. His own throat was cut. He raised his head with his hands to see a full chunk missing from his neck, which explained why his head constantly tilted downwards. He looked at his hands and saw fresh blood coating them. But was it his blood or Ian’s?

When he looked back into the pool, he saw the creature behind him. Ripples distorted his features, and at times he thought his saw Hannibal’s face break through the charcoal-coloured face of the creature. Weight pressed against his shoulders as Will watched the creature massage his shoulders like Hannibal had. Its nose pressed underneath Will’s chin, lifting it upright as his kissed and then licked the wound. It smelled like Hannibal. It was warm like Hannibal. The creature sunk its teeth into his cut neck, and Will squirmed as it pulled out his flesh.

With Hannibal’s voice, it murmured, “I’m here for you Will.”

Gasping, Will awoke and pushed Hannibal’s arms off of him. Hannibal waited as Will sat up and panted. His t-shirt and boxers clung to him with sweat. He pressed his hands against his neck. His neck was fine.

“Did you kiss me while I was sleeping?” Will asked.

“We’re not in a fairy tale, Will. I didn’t think that would wake you up.”

Will said, “But sometimes you brush your nose against my neck. Did you do that?”

“My nose is broken, Will.”

“You’re never quite answering me.”

Hannibal smiled in the darkness. Will hugged himself. He thought he saw the antlers sprawling out of Hannibal’s head. “I kissed your neck,” Hannibal said. He put his hand on Will’s leg, gently rubbing it. “Does that make me your knight in shining armour?”

“I always found that fairy tale a little unsettling,” Will said. “Who goes around kissing sleeping women they don’t even know? That’s not someone I would want to run away with.”

“Well, I know you intimately,” Hannibal said, “and I have no plans to kiss anyone else.”

Will smiled, but fear still crept beneath his sweaty skin. He turned away to look at the clock. It read 9:14am. He instinctively reminded himself that he was Will Graham. He crawled into the mind of serial killers to hunt them. He wasn’t one himself.

“I think I’m going to get up,” Will said, sliding out of bed. “I’m awake anyway. I’m going to shower and then I’ll feed the dogs and let them out.”

Hannibal stretched while still lying in bed. “I better call my patients to cancel my appointments for today. I’m afraid my mind won’t be in the right place to properly treat them.”

Wincing, Hannibal clutched his wound again. “I’m going to spend some time looking at the case,” Will said.

“Are you still going to go with Jack?”

“I’m considering it. I think I would feel better keeping busy.”

“We still need to hide Ian Wagner’s body. He can’t stay in our root cellar.”

“We’ll do it before I leave,” Will said. He had every intention of leaving Ian Wagner’s body in place for Jack’s team to investigate. He continued, “I just need to not think about it for a while.”

“Leave the strays to me, Will,” Hannibal said. “After you shower, head straight to your office and I’ll bring you something to eat – unless you want to take care of the dogs?”

“I think I’d like to get right into work.”

“Then I’ll take care of the dogs,” Hannibal said. “Go shower and I’ll make you breakfast.”

With a quick thank you, Will went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Leaning against the door, Will pressed his hand against his chest to feel the quick pace of his heart. The fear from the dream hadn’t left him. He checked his phone, but he saw no replies from Beverly nor did he see signs that Hannibal had gone through it during the night. He took his time in the shower, letting his mind wander to his dream while he decided what to do about Hannibal.

He would have to confront him.

His personal feelings about Hannibal hadn’t quite settled in yet. This was simply a case that needed to be solved, and since he couldn’t wait for Hannibal to kill another man, he would just come out and ask him and see if he could catch him in a lie. Or maybe Hannibal would just tell him the truth. He wondered why Hannibal would tell him the truth.

Will dressed, put his cell phone into his pocket, and then moved to his office. As he stared down at the papers and photographs, something felt off – as if things had been moved – but he couldn’t place what. Thinning his lips, Will closed his office door and sat down in his chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the phone flashing with the message next to his lures. He wondered why Hannibal hadn’t checked it yet, but he assumed that he just hadn’t taken the time.

After a moment of hesitation, Will pressed the button to listen to the message.

“Hannibal? Will? It’s Alana. Could Will please call me back and, Hannibal, if this is you listening to the message, and let’s face it, it probably is, please make sure Will calls me. I haven’t heard from him in a while, and Jack told me he sent over some files, so I want to make sure he’s all right. I mean, he hasn’t returned any of my calls in a few months, but I hope he’ll make the effort this time. It’s important, Hannibal. Get him to call me.”

Will sat as he digested this new information. Jack sent him the file, not Beverly. Alana had been trying to call him for months, but Hannibal failed to deliver the messages. He wondered how much time Hannibal dedicated to slowly isolating him, so it felt natural for his friends to fade away. He checked his cell phone for blocked numbers, and he saw both Alana’s number and Jack’s blocked. Freddie Lounds’ number he blocked himself. He wondered how Hannibal would explain why the numbers were blocked. Would he say he meant to put them in his address book?

But relief washed over him. He had Jack. He had Alana. He had Beverly. He had friends and people who cared about him. He would have people to help him when Hannibal was gone. He wasn’t alone, and he wouldn’t be alone.

He texted Beverly with the message: “Confronting Hannibal. If you don’t get a phone call from me in 30 minutes, call the police. Hope you’re awake.”

He left the phone in his office and went into the kitchen where Hannibal hummed as he cooked breakfast. Hannibal’s eyes locked onto Will and he said, “I thought you were working.”

Will looked out the window to see the dogs sniffing around on the beach. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“I hope it’s not a specific request for breakfast. I’ve already started making it.”

Will took a seat at the bar facing Hannibal. “Are you the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Hannibal smiled and took the frying pan off the heat. He said, “Why would you say that?”

“New Haven, for one,” Will said. “Apparently new victims arrived while you were on vacation. You were quick to feed me your alibi, Hannibal.”

Hannibal’s smile grew wider, though he said nothing. “You think I killed Jack’s little trainee? And then I called him in the middle of the night with a recorded message?”

“I don’t know anyone else who would be that meticulous.”

“What would you do if I were the Ripper?” Hannibal asked. He leaned across the bar and murmured, “Would you handcuff me to the bed and fuck me harder than I’ve ever been fucked in my life? Would you tell me what a bad boy I’ve been?”

A pulse shot through Will and heat rushed to his cheeks. Hannibal pulled his head away, and Will replied, “I would arrest you. You would serve time for your crimes.”

“Even after everything we’ve been through?”

Will nodded.

Hannibal said, “What about Abigail Hobbs and Ian Wagner? You would serve time for them.”

“And that’s fine,” Will said. “I would probably feel better.”

“Even after all those pedestrian psychiatrists pick apart your mind?”

Will winced. “What would you have me do?”

“We could go on that boating trip you mentioned,” Hannibal said.

Will laughed weakly. “You’re really him, aren’t you?”

Hannibal’s smile faded. So did Will’s.

“Was I – were we – was this all some sick game? Did you get off on knowing that you had me so fooled?” Will asked.

“No,” Hannibal sharply said. He softened as he continued, “A little, maybe. But it wasn’t about your profession. It drew us together, yes, and it added a curious element that I appreciated, but it is who you are that made me hope for more.”

“More than we are now?” Will asked. “How could we be more?”

Hannibal smiled weakly.

Will shook his head. “You thought I could be like you.”

“You slashed Ian’s throat without even a thought. It was your default response. There’s such violence inside of you, Will. Wouldn’t it feel good to let it out on people who deserve it?”

“Like Ian?”

“You know he killed two men.”

“What about Abigail?”

“She helped kill those young girls.”

“And what about Miriam Lass?” Will asked. “Or did she just have to go because she saw who you really were?”

Hannibal sighed and, with his arms folded behind his back, he circled around the bar to be on the same side as Will. “She just stumbled onto my secret.”

“And what about me?” Will asked. “Are we going to fight right here as I try to drag you in? Am I going to break your nose again while you break my arm?”

“Will, I never lied to you. I love you.”

Hannibal put one hand on Will’s cheek. Will didn’t pull away. He gently gripped the front of Hannibal’s robe, staring at the familiar tuft of chest hair there. Will said, “Please let me take you in peacefully. We could get you help. Alana could work with you.”

Hannibal brushed his lips against Will’s as he said, “Are you sure you won’t go sailing with me, Will?”

“I have to bring you in.”

“What a pity.”

Hannibal kissed him gently, and Will winced as he felt a sharp pain in his arm. He opened his eyes to see the needle in Hannibal’s hand. Hannibal said, “It was kind of Ian to pack a spare.”

Will grew dizzy, and Hannibal clutched onto him to keep him steady. “I’m sorry, Will,” Hannibal said. “I will truly miss you and I will treasure the time we had together.”

Will’s eyelashes fluttered.

He didn’t remember losing consciousness. He woke up naked on a chair in his own office. He absently wondered if Hannibal ripped off his clothes or undressed him slowly while he worked to regain his thoughts. His wrists, arms, ankles, and calves were all tied to the chair. With the drug in his system, he struggled to even move his fingers. Numb.

Hannibal Lecter was going to kill him.

Walking into the room in a clear, plastic suit with a full suit on underneath it, Hannibal smiled at Will. “You’re awake.”

Will licked his lips and found them very dry. He couldn’t quite grab his voice yet.

“You’ll have to forgive me for copying Ian Wagner’s style. I assume it’s the best way to kill you without being asked too many questions. I am looking forward to playing the role of grieving boyfriend. My psychiatrist will be particularly interested, I suspect.”

Will didn’t reply.

With his scalpel in his gloved fingers, Hannibal made a careful incision at Will’s stomach and, despite Will’s screams, spread the skin apart. “Sorry. I don’t have an anesthetic. It’s very rude of me, but I’m afraid all of this is so sudden. I didn’t have much opportunity to prepare. I had to use what I had laying around.”

“A kill suit,” Will gasped.

“Yes, one must always be prepared,” Hannibal said. “You won’t be alive when I mimic Ian’s art piece. You know I thought he was trying to attract me with those. They were very intricate. Such a pity the victim wasn’t alive for it.”

Will looked down as he saw Hannibal’s fingers penetrate the hole in his stomach. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut to keep from crying out again.

“I thought you would like to know, Will, that I plan on honouring you like Garret Jacob Hobbs did. I already picked out a recipe for you, Tripes à la mode de Caen. I haven’t yet decided on the wine. While it would be a pleasure to have Alana and Jack over for the meal, I think I would prefer to dine alone. I will toast the empty seat across from me, the seat where you usually sit. I will toast the man who made me realize I wasn’t alone, that there was another person out there like me.”

“I’m nothing like you.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” Hannibal said. “You wouldn’t want your last words to be a lie, would you?”

Will shook his head as it grew heavy and foggy. His inability to raise his head reminded him of his dream with Ian. Hannibal’s forehead pressed against his own. Hannibal’s splint brushed against his nose. “You’re losing consciousness Will. Do you have anything you want to say to me before you go?”

Will smiled weakly. “You wouldn’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“You can curse me if you’d like.”

“I’m too tired.”

Hannibal took his fingers out of Will’s wound as he said, “May I kiss you one final time? I feel as though I tainted the last one with the needle.”

“Go ahead.”

His warm lips brushed against Will’s before kissing him gently. Will’s mouth opened slightly as he extended the kiss and, out of habit, Will gently sucked Hannibal’s lower lip as Hannibal pulled away. With his voice hoarse, Will said, “You win, Hannibal.”

Will opened his eyes to see Hannibal frown. Confusion hit Will as he saw the sincere expression on Hannibal’s hurt face. “No Will,” he replied. “I lost.”

Hannibal pulled his head away from Will’s and extended the cut with the scalpel. Will winced, but his voice was too dry and hoarse to let out much of a noise. Part of him wondered if he could have lived with himself if he had run away with Hannibal – if they did go off and spend the rest of their lives on a boat together.

He probably couldn’t have. He would have hated himself. The monster would be there whenever he closed his eyes to sleep, the nightmares would never stop, and the monster would still be there when he woke up in the morning, trying desperately to comfort him. It wouldn’t have worked. And he couldn’t be the man Hannibal wanted.

This was probably all for the best.

He smiled to himself. With his eyes closed, he saw the ocean. A starry sky looked down onto him, and a light mist blanketed the water. He heard the waves. He sat on a boat, fishing off the side of it. He was alone. And that was fine. He was used to it. The boat rocked beneath him, lulling him to sleep. His grip on his fishing rod loosened, but he couldn’t be bothered to tighten his grip.

Will Graham heard sirens in the distance as he drifted out of consciousness.


	10. Chapter 10

Will awoke on his feet. His vision didn’t come to him right away, but each foot methodically moved one in front of the other as if he had no control over them. A slick weight pulled down his ankles and wrists while a sharp, throbbing pain sat in his stomach. Blinking to force his vision to clear, he saw bloody shackles around his ankles. One chain connecting his ankles led up to his shackled wrists, and the other led to the person walking in front of him. He looked ahead and saw the nude, lean back of Hannibal Lecter. It was sweaty and wore scars Will didn’t remember. His hair looked greyer, and it hung loose, greasy, and unstyled. He caught a glimpse of his profile as Hannibal briefly turned to look at him before staring ahead again. Hannibal’s nose was broken, and blood slowly dripped out of it, crawling down his lips and chin.

Will licked his dry lips and looked down at his own form. Naked, abused, and he bled freely from his stomach. More seemed to gush out with every step and drizzled down his leg.

Will didn’t think he was supposed to be alive.

Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he locked himself into hell by binding himself to Hannibal.

He rubbed his face as his surroundings became clearer to him, as if a fog around him lifted. Hannibal and he walked on a path through a dense forest. Four figures rode on black horses, two on either side of them. He recognized them. Beverly and Price on either side of him. Jack and Zeller on either side of Hannibal. Hannibal’s chains were attached to a creaking carriage that slowly lurched forward. Will squinted, and he saw the creature in its stag form peer around the carriage it pulled. It turned his head to look at Will like Hannibal had, only showing its profile before turning back ahead.

“What have we done?” Will asked.

The four and the carriage continued to move ahead. Hannibal turned to look at him again. He smiled at Will. Will’s stomach turned. They continued walking, and stones bit into Will’s bare feet. Will pressed his chained hands against his wound, desperate to stop the pain. The pain twisted through his body, and his hunched over to try to suppress it as he walked. Blood crawled down his thigh and splattered onto the ground he passed.

His breaths turned ragged and his vision faded.

He saw light behind his eyelids. Distant voices echoed around him though he couldn’t make out the words.

He dropped to his knees, and a hard tug on his hair pulled him back to his feet. Jack’s voice. “Walk.”

With his eyes squeezed shut, Will screamed, “What have we done?”

Jack’s voice calmly replied, “You keep saying ‘we.’”

Will’s eyes open, and he saw Hannibal glancing back at him again. The same smile. Will threw up on the ground. Blood mixed with the bile. Jack pulled him up again, and Will walked through it. He wiped his mouth on his forearm.

The walking continued. Will stared at the muscles in Hannibal’s lean back. He remembered running his fingers across them. He remembered kissing between his shoulder blades. He wondered if Hannibal would give him strength if he leaned on him now. He saw Hannibal’s profile again as he looked at something in the distance. Will followed his gaze and saw a mist-covered river.

He let his blue eyes drift across Hannibal’s sharp profile, thinking about tracing his lips across it. “He did this to you,” Beverly said.

Will didn’t look up at her. Confronting Hannibal felt like a dream now. He hadn’t said those things about preparing a meal with his stomach. An image of Hannibal toasting an empty seat across from him shot through his mind.

No. They were chained together. Alive. Injured, but alive. And bound together.

“Fall,” Hannibal whispered. His lips didn’t move.

They neared the river. The mist looked like a thinning fleece blanket, like something Will would curl under to read only to have Hannibal slide under it too after placing Will’s legs in his lap.

“Fall.”

It sounded like a whisper in his ear, though it seemed like Hannibal hadn’t spoken at all. His brown eyes lingered on Will, and he could feel Hannibal’s breath on his ear.

“Fall.”

Will dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach and coughing. When Jack leaned down to pull him up again, Hannibal grabbed his arm and yanked him off his horse. Will squeezed his eyes shut when he saw Hannibal’s foot raise above Jack’s neck, but before he heard a snap, a gunshot rang out and his ears started to ring. He heard nothing for a while, and he kept his eyes closed. The chain moved in front of him which meant Hannibal was either still alive or they were moving his corpse.

Arms wrapped around his waist, slithering under his arms to pull him to his feet. Warm hands on his back. He knew the bare chest against his face was Hannibal’s, and the arms pulled him away. The ringing in his ears continued. He opened his eyes, forcing his legs to run in the direction Hannibal aimed him.

They ran towards the river. “We’ll sink with these chains,” Will said.

They continued running forward nonetheless. Through the ringing and the pounding in his ears, he heard Hannibal say, “Trust me.”

His lips against Will’s ears. His arms around his waist. They stumbled with the chains and shackles around them.

When they reached the edge of the river, Hannibal released Will to look at him. He took his hand in Will’s and squeezed it. When he jumped, Will followed suit. No hesitation. No thought. Trust.

The surface of the water felt like breaking through a thin layer of ice, and it stung about as much too. His hand stayed glued to Hannibal’s and he dug his nails into his flesh to keep them together, somehow fearing the chains wouldn’t. Will sunk. The water stung his eyes, and his arm lurched upwards as he continued to sink deeper into the water. He tried to swim upwards and he felt Hannibal tugging him.

His lungs burned.

He looked down.

Abigail and Garret Jacob Hobbs sat at the bottom of the river. Coral grew in their icy blue flesh. Empty sockets looked up at Will, and their lips parted though no bubbles shot out. Their arms with chunks of skin missing from fish rose upwards with their hands reaching towards Will. Garret Jacob Hobbs reached for one of Will’s chains.

Will kicked upwards. He clawed upwards for Hannibal to pull him up. The water continued to drag him down as if it was tar. He shouted for Hannibal and breathed in water. His arms and legs grew heavy, and he struggled to move through the thickening water. His body shook as he failed to breathe in air.

In one strong swoop, he shot upwards through the water and coughed it up as Hannibal pulled him onto the shore.

They were on their beach, and a mist surrounded their house. He looked up to Hannibal and found him clad in a suit. His skin was pale and his hair was short and styled like when they first met. His face was clean shaven, and he smiled at Will.

Will found himself completely free of chains, but other than that, he was the same. Bloody. Broken. Nude. His stomach continued to bleed and throb.

With blood seeping out from between his lips, he said, “I need help.”

“And I’ll help,” Hannibal said.

He kneeled in the sand and cupped Will’s cheeks in his hands. He kissed him softly, and when he pulled away, his blood rested on Hannibal’s lips. He took Will’s hand in his own and led him back into their house. There was an absence of dogs, and an absence of sounds. The floorboards didn’t creak. He couldn’t hear the waves.

Will followed him through the kitchen and into the dining room. Hannibal didn’t turn on any lights, but a single row of candles centered down the length of the table illuminated the room, casting twisting shadow across the walls. Will hesitated in the doorway and his eyes crawled across the antlers mounted onto the walls. Hannibal pulled Will into the room and, without a word, lifted Will off the ground and mounted him onto the antlers behind the head of the table.

The antlers impaled Will through his shoulders, and he winced from the pain. His arms and legs felt heavy, as if the chains still pulled him down in the thick water, and he struggled to move them. Hannibal pressed his fingers into the wound on Will’s stomach and, when Will cried out in pain, Hannibal kissed his neck.

Will awoke abruptly, sitting up in bed. Alana smiled next to him and squeezed his arm. Will blinked and tried to place himself. When he tried to rub his face, his found his hand cuffed to the bed. “Am I still asleep?” he asked.

“You’re awake,” Alana replied. “Though I suppose a dream version of myself might assure you of the same thing.” She offered him a weak smile and said, “You’ve been in and out, but the questions you’ve been asking don’t make sense. You’ve been out of surgery for several hours. You keep asking for Hannibal.”

Hospital equipment surrounded him. A tube pressed into his nose and, despite his discomfort, he couldn’t reach it to pull it out. A catheter hung off the side of the bed, and he guessed it was attached to his kidney rather than his genitals based on how it felt. He wiggled his toes, and he smiled weakly when he saw the sheets move. A dull pain hung in his stomach. He couldn’t pull off the sheets to look.

“Why am I cuffed to the bed?”

Alana thinned her lips and sighed. “When they searched the house after they arrested Hannibal, they found your lures.”

“They shouldn’t have been hard to find in my office,” Will said, smiling. “I suppose Jack came to collect the files he sent me.”

Alana swallowed, as speaking the words aloud suddenly added a truth to them. “Your lures had human remains integrated into them. They tested them, and based on the victims, it suggests you are the Copycat, Will.”

The truth came back to Will in a wave. He remembered Hannibal gutting him. He remembered his words. They were real. Hannibal wouldn’t meet him in the hospital. “He set me up,” Will snarled. “He doesn’t want to go down for this alone.”

“Hannibal assures us that he made you the lures,” Alana said. “He says he acted alone. Listen, Hannibal got you a lawyer. You’ll want to talk to her about-“

“I don’t want anything he’s trying to give me.”

“Will, listen. She has your best interests in mind. I’ve already spoken with her and I think she may be the best choice. Hannibal’s spared no expense in hiring her.”

“I don’t trust him,” Will said. “I don’t trust him, not anymore.”

Alana squeezed Will’s arm. “I trust her.”

Will sighed and stared hard at Alana. He wondered how different things would have been if Alana had just accepted his romantic advances in the first place. He supposed it was unfair to blame her for all this just because she wouldn’t return his affections. She certainly wouldn’t return them now. Even if she believed he didn’t kill anyone, he still sliced Ian Wagner’s throat and he still thought he killed Abigail Hobbs. He would always be too unstable for her. He smiled and leaned back in his bed. And that was fine.

“I’m sorry about the phone calls,” Will said. “I didn’t realize how much I was relying on Hannibal to control my social life.”

“You could have called me back.”

“He never told me you called,” Will said. He laughed and added, “He blocked your number on my cell phone. Jack’s too. He probably would have started with Beverly next. And Aaron, too, eventually.”

“Who’s Aaron?”

“Ian, I guess. Ian something.”

“The man in the root cellar.”

“I slit his throat,” Will said. “Hannibal smashed his face in.”

“I shouldn’t hear this,” Alana replied. “Please, will you at least see the lawyer?”

“What’s happened to my dogs?”

“I’m taking them,” Alana said. “Don’t worry. They’re fine. They’ll be here for you. Listen-”

“I’m tired Alana.”

“Go back to sleep then,” Alana said. “But I’m sending the lawyer in when you wake up, okay? At least see her. If you don’t like her, I’ll help you find someone else. But I like her. As disgusting as I think this whole situation is, I like her.”

“Fine, I’ll see her,” Will said, leaning back into his pillow. “But I don’t want to sleep.”

“You probably won’t be able to fight it,” Alana said, smiling. She brushed hair off of Will’s forehead. “You’ll wake up again. You’re physically stable. They’re not worried about your condition.”

“What is my condition, doctor?”

“Hannibal tore out a rather large section of your stomach, so the doctors had to connect the upper part of your stomach to your small intestines. It’ll mean a change in diet, but they’ll go over that. They’ve explained it a few times, but you haven’t been conscious enough to understand.”

“That sounds unpleasant,” Will said. “I’m not looking forward to the drugs wearing off.” He exhaled and said, “Alana, I’m afraid to sleep. I’m having nightmares.”

“You’ll wake up again.”

“Into another one,” he said, feeling his body grow heavy. “My life is just one big nightmare, isn’t it? The universe could throw me a bone and at least give me a wet dream once and a while.”

He saw Alana smile. His blinks turned slow. When he tried to reach to rub his eyes, the cuffs around his wrists stopped him. “Jack blames himself,” Alana said.

“That’s funny. I blame myself too.”

“I blame Jack,” Alana said. She twined her fingers in with Will’s. “Please tell me you didn’t do this.”

“I slit Aaron’s – Ian’s throat. I think I killed Abigail Hobbs, though I don’t remember it. I couldn’t have killed the others. I wouldn’t have killed Georgia Madchen. She’s one of the Copycat’s victims, right? I did not kill her. I feel guilty for not looking into that more.”

“You got sick, Will. What could you have done?”

Will shrugged. He supposed that meant Hannibal killed her. She saw his face.

Alana asked, “You think you killed Abigail?”

Will’s head throbbed. “It was when I was sick. I lost time after she admitted to luring away all those girls. Hannibal said I killed her, though I suppose his word isn’t worth much anymore. But he acted so afraid for me. I want to think it’s sincere.”

Alana smiled weakly. He asked, “Will you be doing the psychological tests?”

“No,” Alana said. “We’re too close. It won’t hold up in a court.”

“I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot of new faces.” Will squeezed her hand. “I prefer the familiar ones. They’re always pretty.”

Laughing, Alana said, “I know better than to flirt with someone whose boyfriend will be on trial for murder.”

“I appreciate that you didn’t say you know better than to flirt with a murderer.”

Alana showed some teeth in her smile as she said, “That’s because I don’t.”

Will laughed, and a new pain shot through his body. He stopped, sharply. Alana brushed his bangs off of his forehead. Her fingers were light and cautious. Hannibal always touched him with a gentle determination. “We’ll figure this out and get you through it,” Alana said. “Hannibal has a pile of alibis, but,” her voice trailed off.

“But?”

“There’s a kidney in the freezer.”

Will sighed.

“He was carving out your stomach and then they found a recipe for Tripes à la mode de Caen on the countertop.”

“He always insisted on shopping and cooking,” Will said. “I don’t want to – I can’t think about what we’ve been eating. Alana, it’s going to be in my stool. We’re – I’m going to go down for this, right? I can’t see a way out.”

“I can’t either.”

He could see it in Alana’s face, flushed with fear and frustration. Will lowered his voice. “I deserve it though, right? Regardless of everything else, I know I slit Ian’s throat. I saw what he was going to do to Hannibal, and I saw all the other men he killed and all of the Ripper’s victims. I saw it all and I got angry. I wasn’t going to let him-“

Alana hushed Will. “The lawyer is going to do everything she can. I’m going to do everything I can.”

“What about Jack?”

Alana didn’t reply.

Will sighed. “I suppose if he thinks I’m the Copycat and the Ripper, he’s not going to be on my side in this.”

“I’m afraid not, Will.”

The door opened and a doctor Will didn’t recognize came in. After assuring Will she would return, Alana’s excused herself. The doctor explained to Will what had happened and what he could expect pain and discomfort-wise in the future. He would be in the hospital for a week or two, depending on how his recovery went. An officer was outside of his room in case he tried to escape, and someone would be in shortly to formally arrest him for the third time now that he seemed to be responding clearly.

Will tried to focus on everyone’s conversations as doctors and agents came and went, talking softly but firmly to him. He wanted to take in every sound of their words. He wanted to fill his brain with anything to stop him from thinking about Hannibal and what his partner had done to him. Homicide. Cannibalism. Cover-ups. Trophies.

While Jack’s team had started investigating the case, they had to pass it along to someone else once they realized the conflict of interest. He didn’t see Jack, Beverly, Price, or Zeller. He heard about them in passing, but they didn’t visit. He supposed he was the last person they wanted to see, or maybe they hadn’t been allowed.

When Will was finally left alone in the hospital room, he settled down to try to sleep. His sore body stayed tense. His wrists ached. His nose itched. And all the information hovered in front of him in the room like a tidal wave that hadn’t yet hit the shore. Part of him was afraid he would snap. He thought of the wave, which reminded him of Lawrence Wells’s totem. His body of work. His design. Will realized he finally saw Hannibal’s body of work and design. And his partner was just so kind as to share the credit with him.

Will sat on his rock overlooking the beach. He saw the tidal wave dissipating in the distance. It wouldn’t be large when it hit the shore. It would blend in with the other waves perfectly. He set his fishing rod in the slot to hold it and hugged his knees to his chest. A dry, cold air whipped out at him, and it reminded him of Wolf Trap. Hannibal approached with a quiet smile and sat next to him. Without a word, he traced his index finger down Will’s profile, and Will smiled when his finger reached his lips.

Everything was familiar. A memory.

When Hannibal’s finger rested under Will’s chin, he drew it upwards for a kiss. Hannibal’s warm breath brushed against his lips first. He tilted his head carefully so their noses would brush against each other without smothering each other. Hannibal’s eyes nearly drew shut and watched Will’s eyes close. One small, short brush of the lips before Hannibal pulled away.

“You’re a tease,” Will said, smoothing out Hannibal’s tie with his hand.

“You just don’t appreciate the little things,” Hannibal said.

“There’s nothing little about you.”

Will kissed Hannibal’s neck and rubbed the other side of it with his hand. Hannibal wrapped his arm around Will’s back, and Will nuzzled into his collarbone. He stretched his legs out next to Hannibal’s and ran his hand up Hannibal’s thigh.

“You’re being rather forward.”

“Do you remember the time I sat reading on the couch after work, and then you came into the room and gave me a hand job without saying anything or kissing me or touching any part of me other than my genitals. Then after I came, you just wiped your hand on my shirt and left to meet one of your patients in your office. You didn’t even put my dick away.”

Hannibal stared hard at Will, smiling as he replied, “I remember that fondly.”

“Well, you never get to complain that I’m too forward after you do something like that to me.”

Pressing his lips against Will’s ears, he murmured, “Who said I was complaining?” He ran his hand up Will’s thigh in a similar manner and rubbed Will’s cock through his jeans. “I’m actually rather aroused by it.” He kissed Will’s ear. “I thought this sort of public display made you nervous.”

“There’s no one around,” Will said, turning his head to brush his nose up against Hannibal’s. Against Hannibal’s lips he said, “Even the dogs are inside.”

He gently bit down on Hannibal’s lower lip, gripping his stiffening cock through his pants. He watched Hannibal’s lips part as he jerked him off. Hannibal didn’t return the favour. He removed his hand from Will’s leg and rubbed his chest. His cock throbbed against his leg, and he stopped jerking Hannibal off to undo his trousers. He slipped his hand down his tight pants, taking his shaft in his palm and gently stroked him as he kissed Hannibal just as softly.

Hannibal unbuttoned the top few buttons of Will’s shirt and slid his hand down it to rub his chest. Kissing Will deeper, he teased his partner’s nipple between two fingers as Will jerked him off faster. “Let me kiss it,” Hannibal murmured against Will’s lips. “I know you don’t like me to, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Will nodded, eager to get any part of Hannibal to interact with his neglected cock. Pulling Will’s hand out of his own pants, Hannibal kneeled in front of Will as he unbuttoned Will’s jeans. He pulled Will’s cock out and gripped him around the center of his shaft before pulling his hand back to the base of his shaft to expose the head of his cock from his foreskin. Watching Will bite his lower lip, Hannibal kissed the head of his cock.

Will’s lips parted, and Hannibal’s lips pulled away. He nuzzled Will again, brushing his lips against his friend’s as he murmured, “May I suck it?”

“Only if you fuck me before I come,” Will said. “Do you have anything?”

“A packet of lube and a condom,” Hannibal said. “It was for later, but-“

“Forget the condom,” Will said.

He kissed Hannibal roughly. Their teeth brushed together and Will bit Hannibal’s lower lip as he pulled his pants down past his hips. The stone was cold against his ass, so he moved to his knees. Hannibal pulled away from the kiss to lick the head of Will’s cock. Gently jerking him off, Hannibal started to suck the head of his cock. Will panted and wondered why he waited so long to let Hannibal do this. Twisting his fingers into Hannibal’s hair, he closed his eyes to stop from seeing Hannibal intently watching him.

He bit his lower lip as Hannibal jerked him off faster. Hannibal stopped briefly to suck one of his testicles before running his tongue up the underside of his shaft. When he licked the tip of Will’s cock, his other hand squeezed his testicles while his fingers rubbed behind them. Squirming, Will tightened his grip on Hannibal’s hair. He sucked the head of Will’s cock again, slowing down the rhythm of his fist.

“Remember what I said, Hannibal.” Will tried to keep his voice steady. “Fuck me before I come.”

“I want to taste you.”

“You’re already tasting me.”

Hannibal pulled away from Will to take a packet of lube out of his pocket. He pulled down his pants enough to take out his hard cock. Hannibal squirted the lube out of the packet, and Will rubbed his hand against Hannibal’s before spreading the lube across his shaft. Hannibal pressed his face back against Will’s cock, kissing his shaft as his slick fingers teased his ass. One finger pressed in as Hannibal sucked the head of his cock again, and another pressed in moments after. Will winced as Hannibal’s fingers roughly pumped into him, but he panted as Hannibal sucked him harder. His toes curled as a third finger teased him, and he gasped Hannibal’s name as he gripped his shoulders.

Pulling his mouth off of Will’s cock, Hannibal kissed him as he removed his fingers. He murmured, “Do you want me to finish you off this way?”

“I wanted to mount you so you could shoot your load in my ass,” Will said, panting. His cock ached, and Hannibal’s fingers lightly teased its underside.

“I could finish just listening to you.”

Will laughed. “I’m flattered, but I don’t believe it.”

“Listen, if you mount me now, I’ll get semen all over my suit. I would prefer it in my mouth.”

“I’m overwhelmed with romance, Hannibal.”

“Please,” Hannibal murmured, pecking Will’s lips. “I want to taste you for once.”

His index finger drew circles around the head of Will’s cock, sending Will squirming in response. “All right,” Will said. “Whatever you want.”

Hannibal kissed his pelvis as two fingers rubbed between his ass cheeks. Will panted as Hannibal flicked his tongue against the head of his cock. He watched Hannibal smile up at him.

Will awoke abruptly, sweaty and with a throbbing cock. When he saw a woman sitting in the chair next to him, he tried to cover his erection only to find his hands still shacked too tightly to the bed to keep him from covering it. He cursed. His head ached as much as his erection did.

The woman handed him a file folder, and he smiled sheepishly as he used it to cover his erection. “I’m sorry,” Will said. “I don’t even know who you are, and you have somehow managed to see more of me than I would like.”

“I’m the lawyer your partner hired,” she said. “I couldn’t tell if you were having a sex dream or a nightmare until, erm, it became clear.”

Curtains of thick brown hair framed her face. Bright green eyes determinedly tried to avoid the folder and what lay underneath it. Bags hung beneath them, and red veins filled them. Her thin lips sat serious, but they carried a friendliness that her eyes matched but rigid body didn’t. “I should have known,” Will said, “Hannibal prefers to surround himself with beautiful people.”

“Alana warned me about you. She said you flirtatiously try to change the subject.”

“What would I be trying to avoid?”

“Talking about Hannibal,” she said. “Talking about this case. Or maybe you’re just hoping I’ll forget about your erection.”

“Is all of the above an option?”

“It’s a good option.”

“Then that’s my answer,” Will said. “Who are you?”

“You can just call me Molly,” she said, shaking Will’s hand. Her hands were soft, but he felt a callous between her middle and index finger where a pencil would sit. “And I have heard all about the lovely, handsome, charming Will Graham.”

“I think you’ve been talking about a different one.”

“No, I’m certain it’s the same one. Hannibal thoroughly discussed your genitals with me – despite my protests – and I doubt there would be two well-endowed Will Grahams sitting in the same hospital.”

“Now who’s flirtatiously changing the subject?”

“I will discuss anything you think needs to be discussed,” Molly said, firmly. “And I am going to talk about a lot of things you aren’t going to want to hear. Alana said you tend to put yourself in a happy little bubble away from conflict. As lovely as that sounds, I’m afraid a lot of people are going to try to pop that bubble, so I want to do all I can to make sure you’re braced for the world outside when that happens.”

“Or is it more like a blister, where you want to break it yourself so it doesn’t break on you at an unexpected time.”

“I always break blisters with a little hole and then squeezing it to force all the ooze out,” Molly said, “so I suppose that’s a perfectly acceptable metaphor. Lots of squeezing. Lots of ooze. What sort of ooze should we cover first?”

“I don’t know,” Will said. “I’m still waking up, I think.”

“Well, we’re going to have to talk about one kind of ooze first. Freddie Lounds.”

Will frowned.

“Apparently she snuck in here and took a photo of you asleep, sans erection, thankfully. She also broke into yours and Hannibal’s home and took photographs of a few of his more, er, private sketches of you.”

“So you met my erection long before thing.”

Molly smiled. Will liked it and smiled back. She asked, “Is humour your defence mechanism?”

“My defence mechanism is hiding away from as much human interaction as possible.”

“Good,” she said. “As much as I appreciate your humour with me, I’m afraid if we go to court, it’s not going to look good to have you full of laughs on the stand. It’s easy to take out of context that way, and a joke that may sound bitter or sarcastic can be twisted.”

“What do you mean if we go to court?”

“We could plea out,” Molly said. “Let’s focus on Freddie Lounds right now. She’s taken the story and turned it into some sort of murder-rampage romance. Hannibal starts out as the Chesapeake Ripper, and meets the love of his life, Will Graham, who is just a hair away from becoming a murderer himself. Hannibal manages to help Will Graham taste murder, and the two run away from prying eyes so they can bone and kill in private. Another man comes along who wants Will Graham for himself and, Hannibal, the jealous lover, kills the man in a rage and then, after suspecting Will of cheating on him, tries to kill him himself.

“The quote she has, the one where you say something about it not being smart to provoke a man who thinks about killing people for a living, fits beautifully in the article, I must say.”

“I said piss off.”

“I was being polite.”

“Is that what everyone thinks happened? Everyone who matters, I mean. Jack. Alana. The authorities, I guess.”

“The authorities and Jack, yes, more or less. Alana, no. You have a very loyal friend in Alana Bloom. I think Jack Crawford feels more wounded because of how much he cares about you.”

“What about this cannibalism angle?” Will said. “Alana told me something about a human kidney in the freezer.”

“Apparently Dr. Lecter likes feeding people other people,” Molly said. “Freddie Lounds doesn’t know that, not yet, anyway. It’s not public record, yet.”

“You keep saying yet.”

“I can’t hide it.”

“Hannibal should change his name immediately,” Will Graham said. “He should make them work for their headlines.”

“I’ll advise him you said that,” Molly said. “Speaking of Hannibal, he wrote you a letter. I’m going to try to convince them the handcuffs are unnecessary, and then you can read it in private without me looming over you.”

Will’s stomach tingled with excitement. Nonetheless, he said, “I don’t want it.”

She sighed. “Right now Hannibal is telling everyone he did everything. He says he killed Abigail Hobbs. He says he framed you for the other murders in a fit of rage. He says you attacked Ian Wagner in self-defence, but he killed Ian Wagner after you wanted to turn him into the authorities. If they believe him, it’ll lessen your sentence a lot.”

“I’m waiting for a ‘but’.”

“They don’t believe him,” she said. “And I think he knows that. I think that’s why he’s saying all these things. Honestly, it doesn’t make you look any less guilty, and it makes him look very much in love with you – aside from the whole, you know, tearing apart your insides thing – which only reinforces the idea that you two are a team. No one’s going to believe you didn’t see it going on under your nose.”

“Do you?”

“Hannibal Lecter is a very intelligent and very charming man. I believe he could deceive anyone, even others like himself.”

When Will didn’t respond, she continued, “We met at an art show, briefly, when he first came to Florida. He mentioned his partner hadn’t yet arrived, so you must have still been recovering in the hospital. He asked for my card once he found out my career. We bumped into each other several times after that, and he was increasingly friendly with me. I got the impression, sometimes, that he asked questions already knowing the answers to them.

“Now that I know more about him, I think he didn’t want to raise suspicions while still feeling me out as legal counsel. I had a man ask me very specific questions about legal cases and I didn’t think anything of it. I thought he was just really into hearing about murder cases. I’m around killers quite often, and I did not see it in him.”

“Did he ever invite you to dinner?”

“Once, but I cancelled at the last minute,” she said. “I was disappointed then. I’m a terrible cook.”

“But you’re relieved now.”

“I was going to say that, but then I remembered that you ate his meals for nearly two years.”

Will nodded. A silence settled between them, and he found it comfortable, like with Ian Wagner, despite the tension building in his shoulders. He said, “I feel like I’m a dish just before it hits the ground and shatters. Even if someone manages to put me back together, I’m not going to be the same. You have to understand, I won’t read that letter – I can’t read it.”

Molly nodded. “Okay. I’ll still try to get the cuffs removed. What do you want me to tell Hannibal?”

“Just say you left it with me,” Will said.

“I can’t,” Molly said. “He wants you to read it then destroy it. I’m supposed to make sure.”

“It’s incriminating.”

“It’s the truth,” she said. “I doubt it’d stand up in court, especially since it’s a letter for you, but Hannibal’s a careful man.”

Will watched as Molly waited for him to react. Her eyes didn’t leave his, even though Will quickly looked down into his lap. She wasn’t trying to read him or judge him. She genuinely wanted to know his opinion and what he thought she should do.

“Do you think Hannibal picked you for him, or do you think Hannibal picked you for me?”

“I’m covering both of your cases,” she said, shrugging. “He probably wanted to find someone that suited both of you.”

“We’re very different people.”

“I think at the core you appreciate most of the same things,” she said. “Privacy. Professionalism. Respect. Manners. Just not, you know, cannibalism and murder.”

She smiled. Will found himself smiling back.

After a moment’s pause, Will asked, “Do you honestly want Hannibal to get away with this?”

“There’s too much evidence. Neither of you will get away from this. Hannibal might have had more luck if the police hadn’t walked in on him carving out your stomach, and if he hadn’t simply confessed. The organs in the fridge he easily could have passed to you, but he didn’t. You left evidence everywhere. The lures. The scalpel. The blood on the floor in Hannibal’s office. The statue Hannibal used to kill Wagner doesn’t had any blood or fingerprints on it.

“This case is about making sure you two serve as little time as possible and making sure you are serving time in the right location,” Molly continued. “Since you killed Ian Wagner in Florida, you’re looking at charges in Florida. But the majority of your crimes as the Chesapeake Ripper take place in Maryland, plus the Copycat Killer victims are scattered. We want both of you out of Florida so neither of you are facing the Death Penalty.

“If we can get you both back to Maryland, Hannibal thinks its best you serve time in an institution. He’ll likely go to one as well,” Molly said. “He doesn’t think prison is a place you’ll thrive in.”

“I think my thriving days are over,” Will replied.

“We’ll discuss all your options in detail later,” Molly said. “For now, let’s just try to get these cuffs off. I’ll be stepping out of the room for a few minutes.”

She stood up and smoothed out her pencil skirt. Will admired her as she buttoned up her suit jacket, and when he met her eyes, he thought he caught sadness in them. Was it pity for him? Or was it something else? Why did Hannibal hire her?

“Could I have the letter?” Will asked.

“Are you sure?”

Will nodded. Molly took the letter out of her briefcase and handed it to Will while he handed back the file folder. He opened the envelope as she walked out of the room. The letter read:

Dearest Will,

Here we are, you and I, languishing in our prisons and restraints. You in a hospital room and me in a small cell, both without decent conversation or reading material. I hope you like Molly. She’s pretty, isn’t she? I thought she might be your type, both in looks and in personality. She has a son named William – little Willy – and she’ll likely see some of him in you. I assume you are throwing yourself quite the pity party, and you probably seem quite helpless and juvenile. Her son saw his father killed, and I assume she’ll draw some parallels between you two innocents being brought to see the slaughter. I think she’ll make quite the effort to defend you, especially after I confided in her that you did nothing except slice poor Ian’s throat.

And he might have survived that. Abigail did the first time. I suppose I made sure neither survived to tell what they knew. Yes, Will, I killed Abigail Hobbs. You’re free from that burden. Her ghost shouldn’t haunt you anymore.

Of course, no one else believes that. Everyone thinks I am trying to protect my beautiful, wounded, mentally unstable lover. Apparently if you’re white, well-educated, and well-dressed, everyone will still think the best of you, even after you were caught carving out your lover’s stomach. I kept working after I heard the sirens coming for me. I knew there wasn’t enough time to save myself, and I knew you would likely prefer to be dead than be put through all this.

If only the police hadn’t arrived. I still wonder what it would have been like to sit at our table alone and taste you. I wonder if I would have been sad or content. I wonder what feelings I would have, if I would have any at all.

Sorry I didn’t finish the job in time. I acknowledge that one of my downfalls is how I love to hear my own voice, and if I hadn’t spent time talking to you, I might have gotten away. Oh how I love talking to you, Will – especially when you’re shivering and scared and bloody. You truly are beautiful.

I hope you’ll forgive me for binding us together. I always thought one day you would become like me, and we could slaughter pigs together. So when I realized I would have to kill you, I decided to give you the credit you deserved. Since you survived, we get to live through a trial for crimes I always hoped we would one day engage in. They think we hunted together, killed together, and feasted together.

If our friends at the FBI, you’ll have to excuse my colloquial curses here, Will, pull their heads out of their asses long enough to realize how I set you up and you are released without any consequences, I will eventually escape from whatever joke they use to contain me. You can then decide if you want to spend the rest of your life chasing me, which you know I would take great pleasure in, or you can hide away knowing that I am free because you’re free.

There’s a third option, too, Will. When you’re well enough to move around, you could run away with me. We could still live the life we’re being charged for. I imagine you’re currently too angry to do that, but that option is always available. Just say the word.

So you can decide if you really want to escape and, thus, give me a reason to escape. Or you can sit in an institution like me with all the time in the world. Think of the reading and research I can do without all the distractions.

You’re probably thinking, if you haven’t torn up this letter in a rage already, that if I really loved you, I wouldn’t make your life a living hell.

Will, your life always was and always would be hell in every direction. I’m just letting you pick which path you want to take with me.

I wish you a speedy convalescence and hope you won’t be very ugly. I think of you always.

Love,  
Hannibal Lecter

Will’s hands shook as he finished reading the letter, and anger twisted in his temples. Clenching his teeth, Will tore the letter up as best he could with his shackled hands. As he started at the large chunks in his lap, the anger continued to knot and throb behind his eyes. Everything hurt.

When Molly walked back into the room, she hesitated when she sat Will rigid and shaking. Before she could say anything, he said, “I want to be numb.”

“Do you want me to get Alana?”

“I don’t want to feel anything.”

Will rested back in his bed and closed his eyes. Anger, sadness, and frustration boiled inside of him, but it didn’t yet overflow out of him. He feared what would happen when it did. Would he break? Would he scream and never stop? Would he become what Hannibal always wanted? He thought about knitting his fingers around the back of Hannibal’s neck and pressing his thumb against his windpipe. He thought about kissing his last breaths away.

He flinched as a soft hand touched his arm. Opening his eyes, Molly gave him a weak smile and held his sweaty hand. Will squeezed it. “Did you read the letter?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Do you know what it’s like to lose everything you defined yourself with?” Will asked, his voice cracking. “I’m not a teacher, I’m not an FBI agent, I’m not an investigator, I’m not a partner – I’m not even a diesel mechanic.”

“I know what it’s like.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” Will asked. “Am I going to shatter?”

“You’ll scream for a while,” Molly said. “I cried for a while too, and it’s okay if you do that. You’ll hit rock bottom, and somehow I feel like being handcuffed in this hospital bed isn’t your bottom yet. Then you pick yourself off the floor and decide what you want to be and who you need to be to survive.”

“How do I know I’m making the right choice?” he asked. “What if I decide to be one thing and it hurts people?”

“You won’t,” Molly said. “Alana’s not the type of person that’s going to let you fall apart. The plate will fall, and it will crack, but you’ll be put together the right way.” She thinned her lips and added, “And you have me. I can’t protect you from everything that’s going to happen, but I am going to fight to make sure you get what’s best for you. And if Hannibal deceived you and broke your trust, I’m going to make sure you’re safe from him too.”

Will smiled weakly and relaxed back in his chair. “I’m going to an institution.”

“That’s the offer on the table,” she said. “Hannibal said you hated psychologists prodding at your brain, and I don’t blame you, but he also told me about your nightmares and about your hallucinations when you were sick. He told me about how you lose yourself working on cases and how he feared he was going to lose you. Maybe being there will chase some of the ghosts away. Maybe it’ll help you piece yourself back together.”

“I can’t think of anything that’s stronger after it breaks.”

“I am,” Molly said. “People are. Life is about making mistakes, correcting them if you can, and learning from them. You’ll be okay, Will.”

Will let his eyes drift to her. Her thumb rubbed the back of his hand. “Hannibal told me about you in the letter,” Will said.

“Then you know you can trust what I’m saying.”

“If I say I did it all with him, will Hannibal be put away for longer?” Will asked. “You said there wasn’t a lot of evidence against him.”

Molly gave him a sharp nod. “It’ll cement him in place at least.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Will said. “I’ll serve my time and he’ll serve his.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but I’ll wait until you’re in a clear mental state before deciding anything rash,” she said.

Molly smiled, and when she tried to pull her hand away, Will tightened his hold on it. He was afraid of being alone in the hospital room, and he wasn’t ready to lose her warm touch. He regretted it when he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes and released her instantly. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean-“

“It’s fine,” she said. “Do you want me to send Alana in?”

“I think I’ll just try to sleep,” he said. “Do you mind taking the letter away? Sorry it’s in an inconvenient location.”

With a chuckle, Molly picked the pieces of the letter out of Will’s lap, and Will admired the way her hair fell across her face and how she tucked it behind her large ear. Her profile wasn’t as severe as Hannibal’s, but she still carried strong cheekbones. Halfway between Alana’s round gentle face and Hannibal’s square chiselled one.

When she looked at him, he looked away quickly. He couldn’t cling to another person. He couldn’t count on someone else to be his foundation. It only meant more damage when the person left him and he fell apart. She said, “Do you want me to stay until you’ve fallen asleep?”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’d sleep better if I did,” she said. “I have some paperwork I can do here. There’s a little table in the corner I can work on.”

“Okay. All right.”

“It’ll be a bit longer before the cuffs come off,” she said, “but they are coming off.”

He smiled. “Thank you.”

She simply smiled back and moved to the table. He appreciated her ability to be silent and watched as she pulled papers out of her briefcase and spread them across the table. Her expression changed to pensive as she began going through the papers, and Will closed his eyes as he listened to their shuffling.

He wasn’t alone. Alana likely was off getting coffee. Molly sat here with her paperwork. She sighed and tapped a pen against her teeth. The sounds of her were a comfort, but they only emphasized how much he missed Hannibal’s warm arms. He wouldn’t feel them again. Even if he could somehow live with the guilt and escaped with Hannibal, it wouldn’t be the same. The horrors that Hannibal committed would be like a third person in the relationship, only Will would feel like the third wheel.

And the fear would be there. No matter how warm or strong Hannibal’s arms felt, he would always be afraid of the doctor’s fingers feeling for weaknesses in his flesh or snapping his neck during the night.

He knew it wouldn’t work again, not while he held onto his last threads of sanity. It was over the moment Hannibal smashed Ian Wagner’s skull in with the stag statue. But it didn’t erase everything they’d been through. His memories of Hannibal’s soft words and touches, his endless comfort, the fights they had and overcome, and the quiet moments where everything just felt perfect wouldn’t leave so quickly, if they would ever leave at all. Despite all the anger and damage, part of him still loved and missed Hannibal.

His thoughts darted to the letter. He thought of Hannibal calling him beautiful. He thought of how Hannibal wanted to run away with him. He thought of how Hannibal tried to kill him to spare him from all of this. He wondered if Hannibal would have honoured him like Garret Jacob Hobbs, or if he would simply be another pig for dinner.

He considered how both he and Hannibal grew up alone, how they were both always strangers to everyone. Hannibal was a happy person when he met him, Will didn’t doubt it, but a loneliness slowly ate away at him, especially when he found Will – a person who he perceived to be his perfect match, someone he saw himself in.

Will understood that. He understood the attraction and the love. He was the opposite of Hannibal – unhappy and loneliness openly gnawed on him at every corner. He filled the hole with loyal dogs and work. He hardly noticed how Hannibal became a solid friend. He hardly noticed how much he depended on the doctor until he kissed him in the middle of the night. It still felt right. Even now, he still loved him.

He hated himself for it, and he hoped his feelings would fade as time passed and distance was put between them. He would fill himself with all of Hannibal’s crimes and how much the doctor manipulated and abused him throughout their relationship.

As sleep settled into his limbs and kept his eyelids from fluttering open, Will Graham hoped the hate and disgust would eventually overwhelm and consume the love. And he really hoped he wouldn’t dream.

**Author's Note:**

> _originally posted at xisney.net_
> 
>   
> [Art by Hoolygun](http://hoolygun.tumblr.com/)


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